Touched and Bound
by Snow Tigra
Summary: AU. Not knowing a thing about his past, 'Trowa' sets about learning who he is... and what exactly his tie is with Branch 2
1. Prologue

Title: Touched and Bound  
  
Series: Gundam Wing  
  
Author: Snow Tigra  
  
Rating: R  
  
Pairing: 1x2… you may not believe me, but trust me on this.  
  
Warnings: Supernatural stuff, first person POV, inspired by the series Yami No Matsuei  
  
Spoilers: this is an AU, get real  
  
Archive: Fanfiction.net  
  
Prologue  
  
He stood over the body, the knife in his hand still dripping in the moonlight. A thick cloud cover filled the night sky, with only scattered holes allowing star and moon light to glint across the wet metal and faintly illuminate his handy work. The figure stood over the child quietly, letting the wind pull at his long dark coat, causing it to billow quietly. His movements were all slow and precise as he knelt down and used the child's shirt to clear the blood off his blade, replacing it in his wrist sheath.  
  
A gun would have been cleaner.  
  
He would have preferred a gun for this job but circumstance didn't allow it. There would have been far too much noise and those within the orphanage would have heard. Faint screams or cries were easily hidden on the night wind, while gunshots were almost always recognized immediately. Bullets could also be traced, not easily, but it was still possible. All of those factors and many others combined made a knife the weapon of choice, despite the mess of blood it left on him and his victim.  
  
Shrugging to himself, the killer turned away from the body, leaving it to be found as he'd been instructed to do. His job was finished.  
  
He hitched his coat a bit closer around his shoulders to cover the blood on his outfit, then abandoned that idea as he realized it was on the outside of his coat as well. He still pulled it close, for sake of warmth and moved away, toward the road. His shoes crunched against the fall leaves underfoot, signaling his departure with the natural sound of weak cracks, like a burglar walking away from a broken window.  
  
"Hey mister!"  
  
The killer stopped and turned, surprised to find a young boy of about ten years racing to him, waving his arm back and forth. His first instinct was to run, but those who ran were usually followed or at least better remembered. So he turned to face the boy, ready to draw his knife if he needed to.  
  
The boy rushed up, his wide and childish eyes glimmering in the dim night light. "Have you seen another boy like me out here?"  
  
The killer shook his head, knowing full well exactly who the boy was talking about.   
  
"Oh," the boy's expression fell sadly.  
  
The killer turned away from the boy, intent on leaving. He'd answered the boy's question and now he needed to leave before the twilight grew brighter and his face could be seen, or worse, before the boy found the body of his friend. However he only managed to take a few steps before the boy spoke again.  
  
"You're covered in red," he said in a soft voice, causing the killer to turn in surprise. "Do you like that color?"  
  
The killer couldn't help but shudder at those words. He'd always been told to stay away from children and he'd always laughed at that precaution, until now. Hearing such words from anyone else wouldn't have bothered him. But hearing it from a voice which was so innocent in asking such a simple question had the strangest of effects. The child like curiosity struck him like a needle that could have never been seen or detected, nor anticipated. Anyone else and it wouldn't have bothered him, but this small phrase from this young boy rocketed his world, causing him to turn around and stare at the child.   
  
"Do you like that color?" The boy repeated softly.  
  
"No," the killer replied, without realizing he was speaking. "No, I hate it."  
  
"You shouldn't."  
  
The killer blinked at him in surprise. "Why?" he asked in a soft voice all his own. Around them the night breeze picked up.  
  
"Because it looks good on you."  
  
A split second, instinct, a blink of the eye. In one moment the two were watching each other quietly and in the next something snapped. The next moment, without even realizing his movement, the killer stepped forward and backhanded the boy across the face, sending him to the ground with a cry.  
  
"Don't say that!" He yelled, his voice echoing in the twilight.  
  
The boy before him held his face with a tender hand, his eyes wide as saucers in the growing light. He starred back in fear and horror, the trembling carrying itself through his small body until he looked like a fragile leaf in a strong wind, threatening to tear him apart. Above them the clouds moved, exposing the full moon.  
  
And then the boy screamed. 


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
  
The minute I saw him walk through that door I didn't like him.   
  
It's silly really, when I think about it. I'm not really sure what caused this dislike, especially from me of all people, but it was there.   
  
The day had started like any other and I'd arrived at work exactly ten minutes early. I always arrived 10 minutes early. 10 minutes gave me enough time to put on my apron, clock in and assess what needed to be done for the day. I worked at a mix between a deli and coffee shop. We had the normal assortment of doughnuts with a few varieties of coffee and all of it was ready for the morning rush that would start about half an hour after I arrived.  
  
I don't know why I always have things so precise, I guess it's just an odd perk of mine which I'm at a loss to explain. But, true to my apparent nature, I was in the midst of cleaning and taking orders when he stepped in through the front door, his entrance signaled by the annoying little bell on the door hook.  
  
Long brown hair, abnormally long for someone his age and gender. It flowed down his back, with the consistency of a stream, to nearly brush the backs of his knees. The long mass of hair was braided, with obvious care, and tied off at the end with a simple black tie. Comparatively the rest of him was more what I would have expected from another my age. His attire consisted of black jeans, a loose red t-shirt and a black matching jacket to complete the ensemble.   
  
Three other things struck me as strange about him aside from his braid.  
  
A gleaming, polished, golden cross hung around his neck, standing out in sharp contrast to the dark clothing he wore. It caught the overhead lights and glinted as he walked, obviously not something he hid, or felt that he needed to.  
  
His hands were covered with black gloves, matching the outfit and disappearing beneath his sleeves. Yet the weather didn't warrant such things, so I passed them off as a fashion accessory, at first.  
  
The final thing was his smile.  
  
I took one look at that bright smile across his face and decided that I didn't like him. This one struck me as trouble; and something about him and the way he walked unnerved me, which is quite a task for one to accomplish. I didn't let it show of course, I am apparently quite good at hiding my emotions. But either way I didn't like him on sight. Not at all.  
  
"Got any orange juice?" He asked as he came up next in line. His eyes seemed to sparkle with bright smiles and the grin upon his face held a mischievous tilt. I simply nodded and turned around, grabbing one of the small cartons from behind me and ringing it up.  
  
He happily took the orange juice and paid for it, his gloved hands grasping the carton with practiced ease. Then he moved over to sit at one of the tables in the corner. I refused to let myself frown at the apparent fact that he was staying in the store; I had another customer to take care of.  
  
The busy hour passed without incident. Despite the fact that I'd only had the job for a year, the manager seemed only too happy to let me handle things on my own without another employee rushing around behind me waiting to be tripped by their own feet. I don't work well with others. I'm more efficient if the jobs are left entirely up to me and I'm allowed to set my own rhythm. Plus I have a very low tolerance for people who wish to make idle conversation while they work, which all of my coworkers have tried to do. It's not that I'm unfriendly or unsociable. I just like my privacy. I may not know myself as well as most people do at my age, but I do know that I work better alone in jobs.   
  
As soon as the busy hour passed I moved about my work of cleaning and restocking. I refilled the self-serve doughnuts, cleaned the counters of spilled coffee and even pulled out the mop where two customers had been in too much of a hurry to not spill their drinks. Tables were wiped, occasional customers were served, and more coffee was brewed.  
  
And through it all he sat at the table watching.  
  
A carton of orange juice doesn't last that long.   
  
He just sat at that table, slowly sipping at the carton and attempting to look normal. He might have succeeded with all the customers passing through, but I saw through him. No one, and I mean no one, is able to make a small carton of orange juice last three hours. He just sat there, sipping it and watching me out of the corner of his eyes. It unnerved me to say the least. But it wasn't the fact of him sitting there that bugged me. What bugged me the most was that he was obviously waiting for something.  
  
He was waiting for me to get off work.  
  
Needless to say I did not look forward to clocking out that day.  
  
**  
  
"Your name's Trowa?"  
  
I stopped outside the back door to the coffee shop. I was still wearing my work outfit, my hat and tie stuffed in a small bag slung over my shoulder, along with a few past due doughnuts that would be my late lunch. It didn't surprise me that he was waiting there; after all he'd been waiting inside all day. But I suppose a small side of me had hoped he hadn't noticed the back door that the employees were supposed to use. So much for that thought.  
  
"That's what it says on my name tag," I responded with a small shrug.  
  
I could feel his eyes watching my back, concentrating on my head. His gaze felt like a physical force and I had no desire to turn back and meet it. Instead I started walking home. I wasn't at all surprised when he started following me.  
  
"You know anyone by the name of Middi Une? She's a regular at the coffee shop during Wednesdays."  
  
That I couldn't resist. I glanced over my shoulder and tilted my head a bit at him, glancing over him once more. He stood behind me, still grinning like it was his natural expression. His gloved thumbs were hooked in his pockets as he stood there, waiting for me to answer his strange question.   
  
I responded with one of my own.  
  
"Little young for a cop, aren't you?"  
  
He laughed at that, the sound slipping from his throat as the smile on his face grew. I had amused him; that was for sure. But I didn't smile back; I just watched him and waited for my answer. Who else but a cop would be asking about a girl that had disappeared nearly a month ago? Relatives stopped asking after a week.  
  
"No, I'm not a cop." He admitted when he'd had his laugh.   
  
"Then why are you asking?"  
  
A smirk crossed his face. "Why are you avoiding the question?"  
  
Shit.  
  
I gave a shrug and turned to face him. "Customers don't wear name tags. If she stopped in then she stopped in. The cops asked me the same things a month ago, even showed me a picture. I'm assuming you're referring to the same missing girl."  
  
He nodded, once.   
  
"The cops stopped asking a month ago. Why are you so interested?"  
  
Now it was his turn to shrug. "Call it a personal favor. Any idea what happened to her?"  
  
"None. I don't make it a point to follow around people I don't know." I was hoping he'd get the hint. I wasn't in the mood for this conversation and had no desire for it to continue. He wasn't a cop, so as far as I was concerned he was just being nosey. I don't like nosey people, as a rule. I try my best to stay away from them.  
  
"Touche," he said with a grin.   
  
And as far as I was concerned that was the end of the conversation. I turned away from him and started walking again toward my home. To my surprise he didn't follow me anymore. When I looked behind me he was gone, and for that I was quite thankful.  
  
It was only when I reached my door that I realized the truth with a sinking feeling in my gut.  
  
He didn't need to follow me. He could just corner me again at work tomorrow.  
  
I groaned.  
  
**  
  
I have this strange habit, when I wake up in the morning, one of the very strange things about myself that is a mystery to me. The minute I wake up, I don't move. Before doing anything, before even opening my eyes, I listen to the room around me. I pinpoint all sounds and match them to the objects to which they belong. I make sure the silence is natural around me, and I wait for a few minutes, making sure that nothing else is holding its breath and waiting to see if I notice.  
  
Next my eyes open and flicker around the room in quick glances. I take a quick survey of what's around me, making sure nothing has moved and that everything is exactly where I left it. Checking and double-checking the room to make sure there was nothing unexpected; that nothing was waiting for me that wasn't there the night before.  
  
And about the time my hand starts to slip under my pillow for a weapon I stop myself.  
  
It takes me that long to break the habit and yell at myself, and stop.  
  
I suppose some people would call me paranoid, and maybe I really am. But put yourself in my position. Anyone else acting that way would be on meds like you wouldn't believe, swallowing a rainbow trailmix of pills every mealtime. However, I can almost certainly guarantee you that those people all have their memories fully intact, even if their minds are working a little off kilter.  
  
For a while I thought I was paranoid and that I should seek medical help. But when I added all the pieces together that just didn't fit right. So I'm not paranoid. I'm cautious.  
  
Least, that's what I keep telling myself.  
  
Crawling out of bed, I head toward the old shower in my small home and turn on the water. A short shower in the morning, only enough to attempt to get my hair into some semblance of order, then I spend the next half-hour or so looking in the mirror.  
  
That isn't a habit I had before I can remember.  
  
No, instead this is merely a habit that I've acquired recently. I spend nearly half an hour every day just standing here, staring at myself in the mirror. I comb over every inch of my face, neck and shoulders that I can see, practically willing the reflection to give me some clue, some small hint as to who I really am. But it never does.  
  
I could spend all morning studying my blue eyes, which are just slightly tilted from mixed Asian heritage. I can look over my oddly pale skin, and even spend hours staring at my chocolate colored hair, that was so brown it was nearly black. I could stare all day and night - in fact I had more then once - but still no clues came to me.   
  
No, instead, every time I looked in that mirror it was almost as if I was just looking through a window and seeing another completely different person. Because my reflection has never looked familiar, and it's still hard to this day to admit that that's me staring back at myself. It's so strange, but at times I feel like I'm a vampire, or some godforsaken creature that has lost their reflection. A soulless demon, forced to wander the world in confusion.  
  
But then, I'm not one to believe such things. Powers? Creatures? All fairy tales to make man feel more important then they really are. It's a great human comfort to think that when one messes up they can just blame it on some higher power or some invisible little man.  
  
And listen to me, getting all philosophical in front of the mirror. Time to head to work.  
  
***  
  
I wasn't surprised to find him waiting for me.   
  
He wasn't waiting by the door, persay, and it took me a while to find him among the hustle and bustle of the morning street. Actually, I probably wouldn't even have noticed him, if it weren't for the strangely sharp sound of the newspaper dispenser clicking open for someone to retrieve what they'd paid for. That sound caught my ear, oddly enough, amongst all the other sounds of cars zooming past with bikes clicking and horns. I glanced up from the door to the small bakery/deli and saw him standing across the street.  
  
He stood there, the paper tucked under one arm as he stared across the traffic at me. If I hadn't known better I would have said he got that paper just to see if I'd hear and notice him, but that didn't seem right at all. Our eyes met for a split second and his face seemed to hold an immense amount of curiosity, before I broke the contact and went back to fishing around for the key to the store.  
  
Opening the door I flipped on the lights and headed for the back, as they all clicked on above me with snapping electrical buzzes. Setting down the chairs I moved in behind the counter and began to unpack everything, turning on all the coffee machines and checking on all the doughnuts and pastries.   
  
Luckily my job did not include making those. All our doughnuts and pastries were brought in half an hour before I arrived from a large bakery downtown, where they were cooked over night. It saved the deli man-hours and money and it saved me a couple more hours of sleep, which I had no reason to argue with.   
  
The bell of the front door rang, signaling the first customer, just as the coffee machines began to fill up their pots and the thick aroma began to seep through the store. I glanced up and only spared him a second before going back to refilling the napkin dispensers at every table. A gloved hand touched the edge of the table next to me, but I simply ignored it and went to the next table.  
  
"Orange juice?" I asked, heading for the front counter, just like he were any other customer waiting to be served.  
  
He followed me and leaned against the glass display case with a grin as I grabbed him a small orange carton.   
  
"What's your last name?" He asked, as if it were a perfectly normal conversational question.  
  
I didn't look up at him; instead I just unlocked the register so I could start ringing up sales. "You want my phone number too?" I asked in a dry, unamused voice.  
  
He chuckled and set down the cash for the carton of juice. "Hardly, just curious, that's all."  
  
"Barton." I responded, punching in the price and ringing up his change. "And that's all curiosity will get you." I set his coins back on the counter.  
  
His gloved hand reached out and took the coins, dropping them in his pocket, but he didn't touch the juice. Meanwhile I went about restocking cups, straws and mixers for the coffee.  
  
"Trowa Barton?" He said, almost as if he were playing with the words in his mouth. I don't know why, but the way he said the name sent shivers down my back, and not the good kind. I definitely didn't like this guy, and found myself wishing he would just leave me the hell alone. "You aren't much of a people person, are you?" He continued a second later.  
  
"No."  
  
I'm sure he would have said more, but at about that time more customers started filtering into the store. Taking his carton of juice he headed toward the back of the deli and took a seat, oddly enough at the same table where he'd sat the day before. I set my mind to ignoring his annoying stare and making the customers happy. I plastered my face with a 'good morning' smile and went about serving them and making the store money. Just like the good little employee I was…  
  
The morning passed quickly enough and before I knew it it was actually time for me to start cleaning up for the next shift. One thing I like about working mornings is that they fly by quickly. It's very easy to lose one's self in the pattern of greeting, serving and ringing up customers, pausing to clean tables and counters in between. The hours pass in a blur of faces, dollar bills and bells. Yet, still, somehow I have the talent to remember almost all the faces in front of me. I suppose I have what one would call a photographic memory.   
  
I can't remember orders any better than the next person; that's not it. No, instead I notice odd things about people. I see their eyes, remember their faces. I note changes in looks that happen each day, just on reflex I guess. The minute the door opens I glance and see who it is. I haven't tried it, but I wouldn't be surprised at all if I could name in near perfect order the people who enter this deli every morning.   
  
Some times these little traits of mine scare me.  
  
The business died down, giving way to my hour or so of free time before the next rush and I locked the register, moving about to clean the tables. Not to my surprise I found him sitting in the back of the room at the farthest table, the only person left in the deli.  
  
But he wasn't watching me this time.  
  
Giving into my own curiosity I turned to actually see what he was doing, instead of just giving him small glances out of the corner of my eye. Turning completely to face him, I couldn't help but be surprised.  
  
He sat there, at the table, with his eyes shut. One of his gloved hands was now bare and resting on the synthetic wood next to his long empty carton of orange juice. His hand just seemed to be resting there peacefully, while his eyes seemed to be moving; though they were shut. It almost looked like he was dreaming because I could see his eyes moving quickly back and forth under his eyelids.  
  
The minute I'd begun to think he'd fallen asleep his eyes snapped open and met with mine. His expression changed to one of surprise tinged with a bit of fear. We stood there silently and I realized that he hadn't intended for me to see what he was doing. That I wasn't supposed to have noticed him touching the table with his eyes shut. But why? Why would it be so bad for me to notice something as small as that? One would think that he'd been able to figure out how observant I am, especially after noticing him across the street that morning.  
  
His expression shifted, like a curtain dropping, and his normal grin crossed his face. Standing up he swept up the carton with his gloved hand and tossed it in the garbage, stopping for only a minute to replace his other glove. He walked right toward the door, stopping again when we were side by side and he was right at the edge of my peripheral vision.  
  
"You're lying," he said softly.  
  
I forced myself not to react to his words. I forced myself to calmly keep breathing and not give any sign as to whether he was right or not.  
  
"You're lying about everything," he repeated.  
  
Leaning down to retrieve my wet towel I gave a shrug. "That's a pretty broad statement," I responded in a cool voice.  
  
His deep eyes flickered to me with a look of annoyance, the first major change in his usually happy exterior image. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but apparently decided against it, because no words were spoken. A moment later he walked for the door and left, the bells hitting the window hard and ringing through the empty deli.   
  
Only then did I allow myself to respond to the cold shiver down my back. Standing up straight I turned to look out the window and watched his retreating form until he was out of sight.  
  
I had no reason to believe him. No reason to think he knew the truth about the secrets I hid.  
  
And yet…  
  
Something about the way he'd just spoken stuck true. I knew he knew at least one of my secrets. He was correct, after all; I was lying. But how had he figured that out?  
  
An incredible urge rose inside of me. I suddenly felt the need to leave, run home, pack my stuff and move to another place where I would be safe. But there was another urge below that, something that I tried to deny as much as possible.  
  
And that was the urge to follow him and find out exactly what and how he knew.  
  
And then silence him.  
  
*** 


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
The next day was when things really started getting complicated. My morning routine was the same, waking up completely as my hand reached under the pillow and I managed to curse softly at myself for being an idiot. I almost never curse at myself for my habits; I usually accept them… but not this time. Not with him.  
  
The words that guy had said the day before still stuck in my mind. Somehow he'd known I was lying, and I couldn't quite figure out where he'd noticed it. I couldn't find the flaw in my actions. Not a single one. There wasn't anything I'd done to show him that I wasn't Trowa Barton… or that I was.  
  
I stopped in the middle of pulling on my black pants as that thought hit me. My actions just completely paused for a second, then finished without my real knowledge. I picked up my shirt and headed for my sorry excuse for a kitchen, rather then just slipping it on. I walked out into the middle of the room and slipped on the shirt, my eyes closed and reviewing my day yesterday. I went over everything I'd done while he was there watching.   
  
Opening the shop. Serving the customers. Making sales, accepting money. Cleaning the tables. Restocking. And talking with him.  
  
As I went through all of my actions with a fine-toothed comb I noticed things about him as well, my mind listing them off like I had some sort of check list. I began making logical assumptions about him, due to my small knowledge of seeing him for only a couple hours for two mornings.   
  
He'd worn the same outfit each time, looking causal yet not quite. It was something that could pass as a work outfit, depending on where one worked. His braid was always neat, and it meant that he took care of his hair, for whatever reason and I doubted it was just cleanliness. Those gloves were definitely a peculiarity, especially counting the action I'd seen where he was sitting there with his glove off and he'd looked a bit scared that I'd noticed. And then there was his bluish-purple eyes.   
  
I finished buttoning up my shirt and frowned to myself as I pulled a comb through my hair.   
  
I knew a fair amount about him already from his actions, but none of those things told me how he could have known I was lying. Unless he had some prior information about me and something I'd done had triggered against that. Either way something I had done was the key factor that had tipped him off.  
  
In any case it didn't really matter anymore. He thought I was lying, and if I changed my patterns now he would see that he was right. So, in all actuality, as much as I wanted to know what I'd done wrong, I couldn't risk deviating from my daily habits. Any deviation would be a hint toward guilt, and he might be counting on me giving him another clue to play with.   
  
With that in mind I finished getting ready and moved off to work. I was never late, never. And with this person wandering around, now was not the day to start.  
  
***  
  
I've always worked alone mornings. My boss trusts me enough to open the place on my own and set everything up, even if I have only worked there for a little less then a year. I've almost always opened alone, but apparently that day was the exception. Because when I arrived at work, I found the lights halfway on and there was movement inside. Even before I had crossed the street I'd pinpointed my manager and one of my coworkers setting up the tables and supplies like a normal morning.   
  
My eyes scanned the street, and like clockwork I found him standing near the paper machines. His eyes locked with mine and he flashed me a shrug and a confused look, then glanced toward the partially lit doors. I took that to mean that he had no idea what was going on either and was waiting for some kind of signal. For a moment the urge to corner and silence him surfaced again, but I quickly turned away. Now was not the time, I had other things to worry about.  
  
"Morning Tro," Lance greeted me from the counter as I stepped through the door. I'd met Lance only a handful of times, when he came to relieve me and take his shift after mine. He was one of those types who worked around his college classes, always touting in textbooks with him to read when there was a drop in the amount of customers. Poorly cut hair and occasionally forgetting to shave pointed to the fact that he didn't live at home anymore and probably lived on his own or in a dorm a couple of miles away at the local college. A ring on his finger and a gleam in his eye spoke of a girl in his life, or some other relationship that he wasn't afraid to hide, because he never took the ring off.  
  
I gave him a greeting nod, more then I usually accord people, and then my eyes scanned the store for my manager. I wanted to know what was going on, I didn't feel like hearing it from Lance and then again from my manager. While that strategy held certain advantages on occasions, now was not the time, especially with him waiting outside.  
  
"He's in the back, called me in because he said he really wanted to talk to you." Lance said, as he wiped the counter, his eyes glancing from time to time over to a large open textbook on Calculus, trying to look inconspicuous. I gave him another nod and headed for the back, where I found my manager sitting in his makeshift office.  
  
I say makeshift because the furniture in the place consisted of old metal cabinets once used behind the counter for storing pots and pans. Covered with papers and various other office equipment one might have never noticed, save for the scratched silver color that peeked out here and there. His fancy office chair didn't match, and it showed his tendency to splurge on occasion with the company's budget, for things that weren't quite needed or practical. But then, most managers did that from time to time, and it wasn't my place to really care what he wanted to use the money for. Sadly, my main concern was my paycheck, as low as that sounds.  
  
"Sit down, Barton." His voice was always cool, precise and thoughtful. Every time I've ever talked to him he has been a very levelheaded man. However, this time, I could see the lines of stress reaching across his forehead. Slightly hazy eyes, an effect of too little sleep and too much caffeine, watched me quietly as I took a seat in one of the older style chairs we used to use in the main eating area. He watched me quietly as I sat down, his thin hands holding a small stack of papers a tad too tightly, and I returned my emotionless look patiently, waiting for his explanation.  
  
The explanation didn't come in words, but rather in a rush of paper as he tossed the small pile in front of me. He spoke with actions, letting the paper show me just what he had found, and what was so stressful to him this morning.   
  
Staring back at me, from a thin piece of faxed paper, was my own driver's license. A large stamp was placed across the paper, written in angry inked letters. Invalid. Below it was my social security card, bearing the same angry stamp. Both were originally photocopied images, stamped and then sent back through the fax machine. I cautiously kept my face blank as I looked through the various papers, reading over the information, and a slight panic rose inside me. I hadn't counted on this happening.  
  
"Care to explain these?" He asked in a low and cold voice.   
  
I didn't glance up at him. Instead I looked though the papers silently, trying to find where I'd gone wrong. Where had I messed up? The cards, the paper and the information had been nearly flawless. There was no reason this should have come back. I knew the system; I knew how to get around it. I at least remembered that much. So how had this come about so soon?  
  
"Care to explain to me how one of my employees is dead?!" His voice rose, peaking at the word 'dead', as he snatched the papers back from my hands. "You see this?! This all says that Trowa Barton is dead. He's been dead for a year. A whole frigging year! So how the hell have you been in my employment for that year?" He threw the papers back down and took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, then his eyes met mine again.  
  
I gave him no explanation. I know he didn't want one. I merely sat there, silent, as I listened to his words and mulled over the papers. I hadn't messed up. They'd been perfect. So something else was at work here… someone else.  
  
"Look, kid. I don't know the whole story and frankly I don't want to know it. I don't want to know where you got the fake ID and I don't want to know why you have it. What I do want, however, is for you to walk in the other room and cut up your time card." He pulled out a check and pushed it toward me, holding my last week's pay. "This is your check. Just take it and go. I don't want to get mixed into whatever you're in. The last thing I need is another set of cops wandering around this place like when that girl died."  
  
I couldn't resist raising an eyebrow at him in question. "You aren't calling the police to see if I'm connected?"  
  
He shook his head. "Nope. You're a good worker, kid, whatever your name may be. Take the check and leave… if you were really important to that case, that nosey cop Chang would have pulled you out a month ago. Just leave now. The last thing I need is for this to come around and bite me in the ass."  
  
I nodded and took the check, leaving my apron and hat sitting on his guest chair. Without another word I left, heading for the door. I didn't have to look up at Lance to see him watching me leave. He was probably happy, now he could get those extra hours he'd been asking for and he could kill off more of his school expenses. If nothing else, he at least had something new to gossip about when one of the other workers came in. No doubt they would spend months guessing at the reasons why I'd just been politely fired.  
  
I can't say I was surprised either to see the braided boy sitting at one of the tables, watching me with a curious look. I didn't even spare him a glance as I walked out the door.  
  
So of course it was no surprise that a second later he was up and following me.  
  
***  
  
"Hey! Wait a second! What happened?"  
  
I heard him yelling from behind me, as I rounded the corner, walking silently with my hands in my pockets. I had no intention of stopping; there was no reason. But at the same time I didn't feel like heading home right away, so I turned my walk down the street, away from my home and my previous place of employment. I, for my part, ignored the voice behind me. He wasn't important right now. Rather my mind was working on everything that had just happened, trying to figure out where I'd gone wrong.  
  
I knew the altered version of the ID was perfect. Don't ask me how I knew, but when I was done with it there was almost no way a person could tell that I'd switched a few things around. And there was certainly no way anyone could tell on a photocopied version of the card. So, that only left one option, whoever had stamped that copy knew beforehand without seeing my ID. It also meant they worked at whatever registration office my manager used to check out his employees. Whoever had done this had known beforehand what would happen, and probably knew I had lied with the ID.  
  
My mind flipped through things that had happened in the previous days. I ruled out the police, there was no reason for them to still suspect my place of work. I knew they weren't hanging around it anymore, looking for the murderer of Middi Une. But who did that leave? It left-  
  
"Hey! Jeez, you walk fast."  
  
My thoughts stopped and I instinctively turned to face him, glaring at the fact that he'd attempted to grasp onto my shoulder. He seemed surprised that I'd caught his wrist a fraction of a second before he could touch me. But that surprise faded a second later as he pulled his hand back and blinked at me, his normal annoying grin returning. Why was he following me now?  
  
"You got fired didn't you?" He asked in a serious voice, not joking about it at all. I responded with a shrug, intent on brushing him completely off. I needed to think about this. I needed to figure out what had happened, where I'd gone wrong.  
  
"That's it? A shrug? What, you aren't going to blame me or something? I mean don't you think it's my fault-"  
  
"Did you do it?" I asked him, not willing to let him finish his rambling.  
  
"What? Huh? No! Of course not! But… still!"  
  
Satisfied, I turned away from him and altered my course again. On second thought, home was a better idea right now. I would need a job soon enough, and I would have to make a new ID to get one. I pushed his presence to the back of my mind and just started walking home. The answer to my questions seemed to obviously to point to him, which was exactly why I didn't include him in my figurines. No fool would stick around to taunt me after making me lose my job. Anyway, he had no reason to do that. In fact, it would help him more if I kept my job, so that he could continue to drop in every morning and try to unnerve me into giving him an answer for whatever questions he had. No, I knew it wasn't him.  
  
My home came into view and somehow I wasn't at all surprised to see a small blue sheet of paper attached to the door. I heard him still walking behind me, and his footsteps paused as the blue sheet came into his line of vision. I could hear him give a soft gasp, barely audible. No, this wasn't his fault either.  
  
Frowning, I walked up and tore the paper down, trying the knob, even though I knew it was locked. I'd been evicted, from a place that no one should have known I was living in. I crumbled the paper up and tossed it to the ground, turning away from the door. I didn't like how all of this was adding together, not one bit. Why all now? Things didn't hit in an order like this, not in real life. It wasn't a stroke of bad luck; this was too well planned to be a stroke of bad luck or some silly superstition like that.  
  
I turned and found myself looking into a pair of bluish-purple eyes, narrowed in thought. He gave a sigh.   
  
"Okay, look, I know you know I didn't do this."  
  
"I'm not blaming you." I said, blankly.  
  
"Yeah, I know, but all the same, all this happened only a few days after I show up, so I feel a little responsible you know? Like I caused this or something."  
  
I shrugged, not agreeing or disagreeing.  
  
"Ok look! This is getting old. In all honesty I have some questions I need answered, and so do you now. So why don't we step back and try and do this civilly? As in me explaining myself, and you actually talking. I'll even… uhh… treat you to a meal or something because I'm starving." He gave a slightly embarrassed smile as I pondered his offer.  
  
I only thought about it for a few minutes, because in all honesty there wasn't much to think about. And in the end, I realized that I really had nothing better to do. Nothing I needed to do to figure this all out, if I even went to the trouble, was time sensitive, so why not? I finally responded with a nod, indicating that I agreed.  
  
"Great! Because I'm about to fall over." He glanced around the street, obviously getting his bearings on where we were. "How about that fast food place down the road?"  
  
"Lead the way."  
  
***  
  
I could feel his eyes on me as I quietly ate my food. We'd ordered our meals and sat down in silence, or rather I had. He, on the other hand, had spent a good ten minutes at the counter, talking with the girl at the cash register. Flirting seemed to be one of his specialties, because the words flowed from his mouth with an ease that would make any searching boy jealous. It wasn't obvious flirting either, but rather the kind that seemed like normal conversation, but still made the girl react. I saw her face turn a slight shade of red, even if it was hidden by her light make-up. A few more words and he left with his tray, reaching the table as I'd finished over half of my sandwich. It was then that I realized he'd done it on purpose. He'd purposely given me time, to see if I would attempt to run while he was busy.   
  
He'd done this before.  
  
I watched out of my peripheral vision as he sat down at the table, and eased into the chair.  
  
"You can stop giving me chances to run. I'm not going anywhere."   
  
His eyes glanced to me as he stopped raising his sandwich, letting his hands hold it in midair a little ways from his mouth. He blinked at me, then his mouth widened into a grin. Then that grin slipped into an impish smirk. "You do know this game, I thought so."  
  
Damn. He was good.  
  
I frowned and ate my sandwich in silence, cursing myself for my mistake. I wasn't usually this careless, but yet I'd managed to mess-up so many times in the last week. What in the world was I doing wrong?  
  
No, wait. This did make sense. I pondered over his words and my supposed mess-ups in the last week and it all seemed to fall in to place. I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually had a mental clash like this with someone. The police who'd come to my work place after the girl had died were nothing like this, or if they were it hadn't been pointed at me. This time it was, and there was nothing else to distract him. So now it made perfect sense that I was under more careful watch. I would have to adjust my actions and words accordingly. It would be a challenge.  
  
I glanced up and met his eyes, which had stayed on me the whole time. We watched each other silently for a moment, studying the other's irises. Not a single word.  
  
Then he made the first move. Setting down his sandwich he reached a hand toward me. "First thing's first then, ne? Duo Maxwell."  
  
I glanced down at his hand, noting that he even ate his food with those gloves on. Interesting. Glancing back up to meet his eyes, I gave a nod. He pulled back his hand, not seeming phased.  
  
"So, I guess I owe you a kind of explanation, but I really don't know how to start all this…" He frowned.   
  
I caught it this time. He was waiting for me to give him a place to start. But by me doing so he would gain more information about me. There wasn't anything I could say without tipping him off…  
  
"Who are you?" I asked in a flat voice. I knew full well he'd just told me his name. But it was the only question at the moment that I could ask that wouldn't give him more information. He wanted to learn about me; well then he'd have to deal with telling more about himself.  
  
He smirked at me again, and nodded as if I'd won or passed some kind of test. I frowned at him.  
  
"This is getting old." I stated flatly. Standing up I grasped my tray and moved toward the door, he reached out to grab my arm, but this time stopped as soon as I saw the motion.  
  
"All right, look, I'll stop. Just sit down, ok? We both, obviously, aren't used to cooperating on things like this. But if we're going to get anywhere, we'll need to."  
  
He was right, as much as I hated to admit it. I took a few more steps and set my tray on top of the garbage receptacle, then went back to sit at the table. Sitting back in my chair I looked back at him quietly. After a moment I spoke.  
  
"Trowa Barton."  
  
"But I know that's not really you're name." Duo finished his sandwich and leaned back in his chair, eating a few chips, before he laced his hands behind his head and his eyes wandered to the ceiling. "Or rather, I know you're not who you say you are. See, I know a lot about the real Trowa Barton, including the fact that he's been dead for a little over a year now. Not to mention that he was also engaged at the time before he was killed… to a certain girl named Middi Une."  
  
I couldn't help but respond to that. I blinked at him in surprise as the pieces fell together. "But I could still have the same name. It could be a coincidence."  
  
"Oh, it could. True enough." He munched on a few more chips. "But two Trowa Barton's in the same city? Seems a bit too coincidental. I mean, it's not a really popular name like 'John Smith' or something. In fact, it's significantly more rare then that. I'm almost surprised that the police didn't pick up this connection when they investigated." His eyes moved to look at me. "But then, you did a masterful job of avoiding them on that point didn't you? You're the type who wouldn't give away any information, even if seems like you did. You're very good at that."  
  
I nodded. "So you're a private investigator."  
  
He chuckled and shook his head. "Your tone says you don't even believe that. Care to indulge me on why not? I'm curious to know why you aren't pinning me with the loss of your job and your house."  
  
It was my turn to lean back this time, but I did so a bit more stiffly, as was my nature. I kept my arms crossed over my chest, still watching him closely. "I know you didn't do it."  
  
"How?"  
  
"For one, you're too young to be a private investigator. I would guess by your height and body stance that you're in you're early twenties, at most."  
  
"You would guess correctly."   
  
I nodded and continued. "Far too young to be a PI. As for my job, it all happened together in succession. No fool would stay around to gloat about it, after such an obvious attempt to try my patience. Not to mention, that you've made no threats as of yet, whatsoever, and I don't believe you will. It's not your nature to be threatening. Instead you fake friendship with everyone and get your information that way. Making me lose my employment and place of residence is not the way to gain my trust, which you are so intent on doing."  
  
He watched me quietly, a small amount of shock showing on his face. Then that same grin showed up again. "You seem pretty sure in your assumptions about me."  
  
"Am I wrong?" I could tell he wasn't used to my blunt approaches.  
  
He blinked and stuttered a bit, running a stray hand over his braid. "Well, ahh, no… but…" He blinked again, but this time it seemed to be at himself rather then my words. "Why are you so trusting all of a sudden?"  
  
"I'm not. But we have established that you aren't working with the police and won't turn me in for anything. Even if you did all I would have to do is disappear, which would be quite easy considering that you don't even know my name."  
  
"Can I know your real name?"   
  
I shook my head. I knew the conversation would turn this way, I'd been expecting it. Oddly, though, I hadn't been expecting my own reaction. In my mind I'd already formulated excuses, ways to step around his answers, fake names, the works. But now that the question was posed straight at me, I did the most unlikely thing.   
  
I told the truth.  
  
"No."  
  
"And there's where the trust stops. Honestly, what could I do with your name? Is there even anything I can call you by?"  
  
"Trowa will have to do."  
  
"Why? Why won't you even give me a name? You know I can't do anything with a first name?"  
  
"Trowa is the only name I know."  
  
And there it was. I saw the realization dawn on his face, like light spreading over a horizon. A simple phrase and the protests stopped, all the pieces literally falling into place in his mind as well. I could see it from the expression on his face. I knew he'd expected an answer, or a side step, or something. What he hadn't expected and what he hadn't prepared for was the truth of the matter.   
  
"I can't give you something I don't have." I said in a lower tone.   
  
"You don't have a name?" He pondered softly out loud. He brought up another chip to his mouth, but didn't eat it. Instead he tapped it lightly on his lower lip as he pondered the recent revelation. We'd both stepped into unfamiliar territory. He didn't know where to proceed from this unexpected point. I didn't know where to proceed because I'd never told anyone before about my personal mystery. We'd both entered new ground, and from here anyone could guess where things could go.  
  
"You're searching for the real Trowa then?"  
  
Duo shook his head. "No, I'm looking for the person who killed him… but it's a bit more complicated then that." His eyes flashed around the room, taking time to look at all the people sitting around us in a sudden act of paranoia. "I'm not blaming you for his death, you don't seem the type. But there are a lot of things I don't understand now…"  
  
His words trailed off as he seemed to nod to himself. Standing up he stretched, and picked up his tray, balancing it on one gloved hand. I watched silently as he walked over and dumped it, then turned back to me.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Well what?" I countered with a frown.  
  
"Well, come on. I've got some people I'd like you to talk to."  
  
I frowned at him more, my eyes narrowing. Standing up I walked past him, toward the door. "And why would I want to go speak to anyone else?"  
  
"Two reasons. For starters, they can help you find out what your name is."  
  
I glanced back over my shoulder, my voice hard and unamused. "And the other?"  
  
He gave an embarrassed shrug. "Where else are you going to go?"  
  
And there he had a point. I had no where else to go. Granted, I could easily make a place for myself, but it would take work to create a new identity. It would take equipment and connections, all things I didn't have at the moment. I didn't fool myself into thinking that I would be lucky again and just find another ID laying around on a street corner, I knew better than that.  
  
His offer held definite merit and potential. If he was telling the truth, then I could learn about myself. It couldn't hurt to indulge him and myself on this small thing, because I knew I could disappear. Judging by his manner and personality he would let me disappear as well, if I really chose to.  
  
Perhaps it wasn't the best choice in the world, but in the end I agreed. After all, even the best of us have moments of weakness where we move against our better judgment. I suppose this was mine.  
  
"All right."  
  
"Great! Then lets go! I have a feeling you're going to get quite a kick out of this place."  
  
The place, as I would soon learn, which was called Branch 2. 


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
A silent bus ride later, and we had arrived. Our destination was located nearly in the middle of the busy downtown area. People crossed the streets in business suits and fancy outfits, carrying briefcases and stacks of paper to their places of employment. Amongst the crowd Duo and I stood out like sore thumbs, due to our age and our choice of wardrobes. We just didn't fit in, him wearing his black jeans and red shirt and me in my khaki pants and button down white shirt. Yet, it didn't seem to phase him, as it appeared most things didn't. He worked in this area after all, why wouldn't he be comfortable here?  
  
The building in particular wasn't the largest in the area, but it wasn't small either. An imposing front spoke of money and power, leading me to suspect it was a sort of law office. No name was visible on the front of the building though, nothing to hint at the name of Duo's place of employment. Even the windows were tinted, giving a mask of secrecy to the building, yet letting it blend in nearly perfectly with the tall office buildings and elite coffee shops which surrounded it.  
  
Duo pushed open the front door and we stepped into a fancy lobby, holding a secretary's desk to one side and a comfortable sitting area in the other. Flowers and generic pictures were placed around the room, giving it a light and comfortable atmosphere. While the secretary himself seemed to fit right in, possibly chosen even to fit the décor.   
  
His hair was a nearly white blond, and longer then most men allow their hair to grow, flowing past his shoulders. Yet he wore his hair down and was dressed in a suit of light blue, setting off his eyes for all to see. He was only a little older then Duo as far as I could judge, and glanced up professionally as we stepped in. I watched his sea-blue eyes look first at Duo, then at me, and he gave a small scowl.  
  
"May I help you?" He asked in a perfectly professional voice. Had I not noticed the scowl I wouldn't have known that we were unwelcome here. I glanced at his name plaque and, not to my surprise, found that even his name seemed to fit the décor. Milliardo? This entire lobby was a very complex illusion for whatever filled the rest of the building. I couldn't help but be curious what was behind those elevator doors.  
  
Duo tossed him a nod and started heading for the elevators. "Just need to speak with Quatre, don't worry about it."  
  
I followed Duo, but kept my eyes on the secretary. I wasn't surprised when the tall man stood up and walked gracefully toward us. In long, flowing steps, he outdistanced us easily and placed himself between Duo and the elevator door.   
  
"I'm sorry, only authorized personnel are allowed upstairs." I resisted the inward urge to chuckle or smile. This Milliardo knew I wasn't supposed to be here. In accordance to some unspoken rules, he was acting like Duo didn't work here either because I was standing behind him. Another piece to the carefully crafted illusion which I now stood in. Whoever ran this place seemed to have a lot to hide, if they went to this much trouble to keep it secret.  
  
Duo's bluish-purple eyes turned to the other in a look of annoyance. "Down boy, relax. Go back to your post, I've got this taken care of."  
  
Those blue eyes narrowed dangerously, their owner obviously resenting the fact that Duo was addressing him like some kind of guard dog. But he obediently went to sit back at his desk, a scowl painted across his face. I didn't have to be overly observant to see that these two had had many discussions like this before. It was obvious that they didn't like each other.  
  
We stepped into the elevator and Duo opened a well-hidden panel, sliding a keycard in to make the elevator move, then he leaned back against the wall.  
  
"So who are the people you're taking me to meet?" I asked quietly, my eyes scanning the elevator car. Out of habit I immediately noted all routes of escape, including the roof panel and how tightly the doors had seemed to close… I closed my eyes for a second and commanded my mind to stop that, before I opened them and glanced to him.  
  
"We're at Branch 2, where I work. I'd give you a better explanation then that, but to be honest I'm not real good at coherent explanations, better to leave it up to my boss. Just need to formally go talk with him and then I'll take ya down to the kid and she can see what we can dig up on your past and who you are." His eyes focused on me. "I'm assuming your name isn't the only thing that's a mystery to you."  
  
I nodded. He was right; my name wasn't the only thing that was missing from my mind. Aside from my habits, I only had a year of life to work with. Everything before that seemed non-existent, buried deep in a black abyss of nothingness. A name would be a good place to start, but it certainly wasn't the only thing to search for.  
  
At last the elevator doors slid open and I found myself facing a very finely decorated hallway. Reminiscent of the lobby downstairs, everything was decorated in different shades of light blue, creating the same calming effect. Doors lined either side, in perfect reflections of each other until the end of the hallway, which stopped in a slightly rounded table with a fresh bouquet of white flowers. I glanced at the framed pictures on the wall and found them to be of other calming natural scenes. Once again my mind moved to the idea of an illusion… something about this hallway seemed a little too deliberate. The intention was to calm those who stepped into it, but it also worked to unnerve.   
  
I followed Duo down the hall, watching my surroundings. There were no name plaques by the doors, and one was left to wonder what could honestly be behind each one. Not a single clue was left, just a complete hallway of uniform sameness. Had I not had Duo with me I could have easily gotten lost, there was no telling what was behind any of these doors. And something told me it wasn't just plain old offices.  
  
Duo paused before one door that looked no different from the rest. Reaching for the handle, I blinked in surprise when I saw the door open before he could touch the knob. A quick look and I could tell there wasn't a peephole in the door, nor had I seen any cameras in the hallway. I couldn't help but shift nervously as I stood behind Duo. I was growing more and more uncomfortable with this place every moment. All I wanted to do was go down to the lobby and leave. Forget finding out my name, this wasn't right.   
  
I hated not being in control.  
  
"Come in."  
  
The voice was soft and belonged to a boy no taller then Duo, in fact he was just slightly shorter in height. His hair was short and blond with the slightest curl, ringing his head and set off by his bright blue eyes. A smile crossed his face in greeting at both of us and didn't waver one bit when he glanced at me, which I gave him credit for. One look at him and I could tell he was the boss, despite his age.  
  
A finely tailored suit echoed the look of money which covered the building. Yet it wasn't the kind of stuck up and snobby rich, as one might expect. Instead, it was the kind of rich that he seemed fitted to. The blond in front of me seemed perfectly comfortable in his tailored suit and in turn, his manner, made the suit look less formal but still just as impressive. He also didn't wear any jewelry or accessories at all, which pointed to the suspicion that he wasn't really one to show off, once again, in spite of the building's impression. Which made me wonder if he was actually the one who'd built the building, or if he'd inherited it from some previous owner who was more used to its flair.  
  
The blond took a seat at the desk and folded his hands at us, waiting quietly for a response to his unspoken question. He was wondering what we were doing there, rather what I was doing there. I glanced sideways at Duo, also waiting to see how he would give his answer.  
  
Duo, as usual, had his bright grin painted across his face. "Quatre Winner, meet Trowa Barton."  
  
The blond, Quatre, glanced me up and down with a very small frown. His eyes met mine for a moment, then moved back to Duo. When he spoke his voice took on a little more seriousness; it took on the tone of a leader. "I assume there's a longer explanation to go with that statement?"  
  
Duo gave a shrug. "You know me and my long stories. I figured I'd just wait and give it to you in another novel-report, as usual." Duo paused. "Oh! Yeah, I guess I should explain why I brought him in here."  
  
Quatre leaned back in his chair. "If you wouldn't mind."  
  
"Well, you see I went to go find out about Middi Une, like you asked. And it just so happens that I run into this guy, who's using Trowa's name. Yada yada, stuff happens and he gets fired. I find out that's not his real name and he's got some amnesia so I can't really find out his real name. So I brought him here, because I know the kid should be able to dig up something. And I figured, that if anything, he might be able to give us a hand…" Duo paused again in his rambling and swallowed. "Despite the rule about not bringing in outsiders," he added on quietly.  
  
The blond nodded; seeming satisfied that Duo had realized his mistake and voiced it. The room remained silent for a moment before Quatre leaned forward and picked up a crystal paperweight from his desk, turning it over in his hands. "Would I also be safe in assuming that despite what you've told me you trust him to keep this secret?"  
  
Duo nodded quickly. "I'd stake my life on it, or I wouldn't have brought him here."  
  
I blinked at that one in surprise. He trusted me? He'd known me for not even a week and already he trusted me, in spite of my lack of name and personal history. I resisted the urge to turn and just stare at him for those bold words, but it was hard. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what I had done to warrant such trust. Especially after all those word games, I could tell Duo wasn't one to give his trust lightly. So what had I done that made me stand out from the others?  
  
The words seemed to impress Quatre too, because he nodded.  
  
"I trust your judgement, as usual." He set down the paperweight and leaned back in his chair again, straightening his suit jacket, and then his eyes turned to me. "If you'll pardon my rudeness, I need to speak with Duo alone for a moment. If you would be so kind as to step outside?"  
  
I nodded and turned, heading for the door without another word. Both of them stayed silent as I stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind me. Without pause I leaned up against the wall by the door, my eyes moving over the hallway. I guess I was checking to make sure that there was no one else in the hallway with me, not that it would have mattered. On a second thought my eyes wandered the hallway again, this time in search of cameras and other surveillance equipment. To my surprise I found none. If there was any it was very well hidden, but somehow I doubted that.   
  
So the owner of this building didn't only have something to hide, but they were also very confident that no one trying to get to that secret would get past the lobby. Very interesting. Relaxing against the wall I leaned my head back and focused my concentration on the door. After a moment I managed to pick out their voices through the wooden barrier. The walls may have been sound proof, but the door certainly wasn't.  
  
"… look, I'm sorry ok. But to honest, at the time I didn't know what else to do. I know I breached conduct and stuff, but something about this guy-"  
  
"Regardless, Duo, I just wish you would have given me some warning. In any case, what's done is done, and I will have to trust you on this. Did you manage to find out anything else about the murder?"  
  
"Not too much. The police got to everything. Everything I looked at echoed their official report."  
  
A pause filled the room as both went into a contemplative silence. I turned against the wall, on my side, so that my ear was closer to the wall yet it still didn't look like I was listening if anyone passed by. I wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything.  
  
"Did you see anything different?"  
  
I could hear Quatre place an unusual emphasis on the word 'see' and I frowned in thought. The pause indicated that Duo had caught that strange tone change and I had a feeling that the blond was not referring to something he'd done with his eyes.  
  
"I did." Came Duo's answer. "I found the table she usually sat at and from there-"  
  
My concentration broke as a finger lightly tapped me on the shoulder. Without thinking I spun around and immediately my body tensed up, my eyes narrowing. A split second later I was turned and in a position to move quickly, as I looked at the person who'd somehow managed to sneak up on me.  
  
She stood before me with a playful smirk on his face, and her arms crossed in an expression of amusement. Long blond hair flowed down her back just past her waist, framing her thin and tall body, which was dressed in a simple gray top and black dress pants. A single chain of silver encircled her neck, while she wore a matching watch on one wrist. I noticed a gun holster attached to the side of her belt, complete with the gun. It gleamed slightly in the light and she wore it as if it were a matching accessory to her outfit, but I knew better. People didn't wear guns unless they knew how to use them. Wearing one without knowing how was an invitation to end up in the hospital, or worse, the city morgue.  
  
"And what exactly are you doing here, snooping around?" Her voice was cold, with a thread of amusement under the tone. She'd looked me over and didn't perceive me as a threat, but her tone told me she was still cautious.  
  
I forced myself to relax and stood up straight, a normal stance. I forced all my internal warnings to shut down and relax, successfully shrugging off the paranoia after a few seconds. Giving her a blank and expressionless look I nodded just slightly toward the door.   
  
"Waiting for Duo to come out."  
  
Her eyes narrowed, the thin split eyebrows tilting downward in a scowl. "Bloody hell," she muttered softly under her breath. Her eyes flickered from the door to me in a quick movement, much like those which are associated with a cat. "You don't belong here."  
  
"I'm not leaving."  
  
Two simple phrases and all the alarms seemed to go off in my head again. She was challenging me. I have no idea how I knew it, or why my body and mind were reacting in such a way, but I immediately pinned her as a threat. I didn't like her one bit and I knew that she wasn't a person to just nudge out of the way. The woman who stood in front of me was a fighter. Her movements, stance, and even refusal to wear skirts as was the preferred clothing by working women, pointed to a need to be ready to move. Or at least a preference to such. She was thin, but not sickly, and what little I saw of her movements told me they were well calculated. I didn't need to think twice about the gun. I could tell she was a trained professional at using such things, and I was betting it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to say she could fight without a gun as well.  
  
As I sized her up in my mind, another part of me wondered how she saw me. I knew she was sizing me up as well, judging me by my stance, body and movements. I couldn't help but wonder what she saw in me. Still, curiosity wasn't reason enough to inquire. There were more important things to worry about right now.  
  
There was movement and the door opened between us, Quatre standing in the doorway with an amused look. He chuckled softly as his eyes went from me to Dorothy, obviously seeing the silent challenge in both of our eyes.  
  
"Dorothy, it's very bad manners to threaten a guest before introduction." He said, in complete good humor as if this were all a game. I could see Duo standing behind him, looking a little more nervous and not nearly as calm.  
  
Dorothy slid a hand through her hair in a dismissive manner and scowled at him. "And I suppose it's good etiquette to wait until after we've been introduced?"  
  
"Of course." Quatre took a step back, allowing room for Duo to move through the door. Duo nodded to him and stepped out of the room, obviously done with their conversation. After he stepped out, Quatre closed the door again, leaving the three of us standing in the hallway. No sooner had the door closed, then the scowl grew darker on Dorothy's face.  
  
"Just what in the world do you think you're doing, Maxwell?!"  
  
Duo rolled his eyes and turned to face her, standing between us. "Don't you dare start that overprotective-homicidal-mother-hen stuff on me, Dorothy."  
  
"You bring a complete stranger in here without authorization-"  
  
"I just got it from Quatre, everything's cleared."  
  
She frowned deeply at him. "You idiot! My brother may trust your judgement but I certainly don't. I swear one day you're going to be the fall of this entire place and I'll be here to laugh at you." She raised a finger at him in a shaming manner. "Don't bite off more then you can chew, Maxwell, because one day you will choke on it."  
  
With those words she turned around, her hair flowing through the air in a long wave, and headed for another one of the cloned doors. Opening it in a fluid motion, she shut it tightly behind her, leaving us standing in the hallway.  
  
Duo gave a long dramatic sigh. "And one day I'm gonna choke you, Catalonia." He muttered in a mocking voice. That said he seemed to become more relaxed and turned back to me. "Uhhh… so yeah, welcome to Branch 2. Warm welcome, ain't it?"  
  
"Hn."  
  
"Ok, now that the formals are done and we've gotten our little daily speech from the 'queen' over there, we can head down to much friendlier people. Sorry about all of that. This way."  
  
He turned and led me toward the elevator, which I followed him to in silence. As the doors closed my mind silently memorized which doors Dorothy and Quatre had gone into. I also puzzled over what little of the conversation I had caught. My mind was filled with questions, but I kept my mouth shut.  
  
I never liked asking questions. By asking you gave away what you didn't know. I preferred to ponder over things and piece them together on my own, usually. Still, this trip was only becoming more confusing by the moment.  
  
Especially when Duo entered his keycard and hit the button for the basement and made a very strange statement.   
  
"I hope your shoes are waterproof."  
  
***  
  
The scene laid out before me looked like it was out of some strange techno-geek's dream. And perhaps that exactly what it was, save that it was as solid as I was. The door opened and I found myself facing a basement room that was a step down, and the floor had a good cm height of water on it, floating among clusters of wires and networking. Various computer parts sat on higher platforms so they weren't soaking in the water and various fans were set up, blowing on exposed innards and multi-colored computer chips. Monitors were scattered around the room, showing screens of scrolling text and flashing pictures, all on their own search for information. There wasn't a chair to be seen or a blank spot that didn't hold a hard drive, a fan or a monitor of some kind. Some of the pieces looked old and about ready to fall apart while others looked brand new and were probably taken out of their packages only days before.   
  
A sign stood near the door, proclaiming in loud letters "Don't touch!" I assumed it meant the entire room, which was fine by me because I had no intention of touching anything. Stepping cautiously into the water I followed Duo trying to keep my splashing down to a minimum. The room was cold, but only because of all the fans and the immense amount of cold air needed to keep everything running without over heating. Somewhere beyond us, past all the computer parts, was the splashing of another pair of feet. I craned my head to one side as I saw a flash of white fabric as someone passed by, then it was gone.  
  
"Mari? You here?" Duo called out, weaving his way through the computer pieces until we reached what looked like the center of the room. Here there was a significant more amount of space and all the monitors seemed to be facing in this direction, almost like the central control center. "Mari?"  
  
A voice moved around the computers as I thought I saw someone walk by again. "Hey dad, hold on."  
  
I blinked. Dad? Duo had a daughter?  
  
A few more movements and finally a young girl stepped into view. Short orange-red hair framed her face, thin and straight, with hazel colored eyes and a pair of glasses balancing precariously on her nose. A pen was stuck behind one ear, while a small screw driver was behind the other and she wore a long white piece of clothing that looked more like a night gown then clothing. She was also barefoot and the coolness of the room didn't seem to bother her at all. Sweeping past us, she carried a circuit board in her hands and immediately moved to install it in a nearby computer hard drive, flipping a few buttons it buzzed to life and joined the humming that filled the room.  
  
"Who's your friend?" She asked, as she leaned down to check some wire under one of the desks. I hadn't noticed her look at me, but she must have seen me as she was walking around the room. My guess was this girl was in her early teens… there was no way Duo could be her father. He wasn't old enough.  
  
"That's what we were going to ask you, actually." Duo responded; pulling himself up onto an empty spot near one of the hard drives. Sitting up there he swung his legs back and forth, waiting patiently for her to finish whatever she was working on.   
  
The young girl finished with the wires then stood back up and turned to us, looking at me quietly. Then she smiled and stuck out her hand. "Marimeia. Mari's shorter, if you want. That's what dad calls me."  
  
I nodded and shook her hand, not saying anything else.  
  
Mari pulled her hand back and chewed on the end of her pen for a moment, before placing it back behind her ear. "I don't recognize you… but that's not saying much since I almost never leave this room." Her head turned to look at Duo, over her shoulder. "Should I?"  
  
Duo shook his head. "He's got amnesia. He's been going by the name Trowa Barton for…" He blinked and glanced at me.  
  
"A year now." I added, helpfully.  
  
"Yeah, what he said."  
  
Mari nodded, already moving around the room. "Why didn't you go to the doctors or something to get your memory jump-started?"  
  
"Didn't have the money." I said with a shrug. That and at the time I was more worried about establishing myself with money so I could survive. Who I really was, wasn't really at the top of my priorities, because I could live without the information.  
  
She nodded again and opened a drawer pulling out a small, hand-held scanning pad that looked home made. Flipping open the top she held it out to me, as she glanced around the drawer for something else. Watching her in confusion I reached forward and touched the pad, watching the screen in front of me as it scanned my fingerprints and began running them through a whirlpool of screens after she hit a button. She pulled the scanner back, slipping it into the drawer and then turned around with a digital camera in her hands.  
  
I frowned. I didn't like my picture being taken.  
  
"I promise not to sell it on the internet," she said with a smirk. Then she took the picture without giving much warning, the bright flash momentarily blinding me in the dimly lit room. As I blinked my eyes back into focus she hooked up the camera to another monitor and uploaded the picture, then ran that one through a blaze of screens. With that all done, she turned back to us.  
  
"That's about all I can do right now. Give me a couple hours to set up and I can do better stuff, brain scans and things. Trust me, it's all safe, I'm not going to fry your brain or anything. Just need to set it up… Those scans should be done soon… depending on if you have a record or not. Otherwise… yeah, need setup time."  
  
Duo glanced over at me. "You mind sticking around for a while?"  
  
I shook my head. "Where else am I going to go?"  
  
Mari smiled and clapped her hands together. "Great, then I'll have the stuff set up by tomorrow afternoon, if you two wanna stop back." She leaned back for a moment in thought, then took off, disappearing around a corner with a light splash of the water on the floor. Coming back around another corner she held a pile of papers in her hand, making a face, as if she didn't like the idea of paper as opposed to her computers.  
  
"Dad, you forgot these yesterday."  
  
Duo blinked and took the folder, flipping through the papers. "Oh! That's where this went… silly me." His voice didn't sound sincere at all, and I got the impression that he'd left them in her room on purpose.  
  
Mari seemed to be thinking the same thing because she mockingly slapped him on the arm. "Get to work, you lazy bum. I'm not typing up another report for you."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I got it." Duo jumped off the desk where he sat and tapped the file to his chest. "See me, heading home to do my work. See?"  
  
Mari chuckled. "Sure, right dad." She turned back to me and tossed me a wink. "Don't worry, he's not really as irresponsible as he seems. Look forward to talking to you tomorrow. See ya then!"   
  
And with those words she disappeared behind a table of monitors to pull apart more computers and reassemble them. I watched her quietly, trying to comprehend what I was getting myself into. I had somehow just agreed to let a 15 year old run tests on me to try and figure out why I only remembered a year of my life. Not to mention that I'd also agreed to 'stick around' with someone who acted like a teenager himself and yet she called him dad? Then there was the fact of all the questions that were welling up in my mind, nearly waiting to burst out.  
  
Somehow in the course of one day my entire life had managed to turn itself over on its head. At that moment, I doubt I would have been surprised to find out that I was some lost prince from another country or something equally preposterous. Ends didn't quite meet, at least not in my head, and it became very clear as we headed for the elevator that attempting to not ask questions would only leave me more confused. I would have to voice them sooner or later, like it or not.   
  
Resigned to my fate I followed Duo to the elevator and out of the building, apparently heading through the crowd of business people for his home.   
  
*** 


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
"You hungry?"  
  
I blinked and paused, in the process of glancing around Duo's home from the doorway. He'd unlocked the door and strolled right into the kitchen, dropping his keys on the counter in a habitual fluid motion. I, on the other hand, had stayed at the door, looking at the studio apartment before me.  
  
From where I stood inside, I was only a few city blocks from the main headquarters of Branch 2. From the décor of the lobby, and how it had vaguely resembled the office building, I could tell this was also a company building. Meaning that Branch 2 not only had a large amount of secrets, but it had even more then I thought considering it housed all of its employees. Only major corporations did such a thing. On one hand it made the company seem more family like, with better connections - but on the other it made employees easier to watch.   
  
I would be lying if that didn't bother me just a bit,  
  
"Trowa?"  
  
I blinked. "Not hungry. Do you have anything to drink?"  
  
Duo leaned over and opened up the fridge. I could hear some things being moved around as I stepped in and closed the door behind me. When I looked up he was holding a bottle of water and giving me a questioning look. I nodded and he promptly threw the water toward me, which I caught without a second thought. Twisting off the top I took a drink as I glanced around his room, taking note of everything around me.  
  
The apartment I stood in was quite simple and perfectly fit the stereotype of a 'bachelor's pad', so to speak. It wasn't clean by most standards, but it was very livable and the clutter and strewn about items gave it a definite feeling of home. The entire place was one room and from where I stood I could see to every corner, save for one in the back, which had a wall around it and a screen-like door, I imagined that was where the bathroom stood.   
  
In spite of the entire place being only one room, I could make out the different areas. I could see Duo's bed pushed up against the right wall, near the bathroom with only a bookshelf separating them. The back left corner of the apartment was semi-sectioned off with the help of two computer and electronics covered desks, and a bed serving as an extra surface in the back. From what I could see, the only thing that had slept in that bed for the last week or so was computer pieces. I made an educated guess that Mari didn't come home that often, either that or she didn't sleep at home. But then that didn't surprise me in the least, considering the amount of room and machines she had at the main building. Had I favored computers even half as much as she did, I don't think I would sleep at home much either.  
  
Two beat up and well used couches sat around a large TV set, which had seen days of more use. Still it was of significant size and my guess was it ran like new, considering the young lady's skill. Not too many feet away was a dinning table, covered with paperwork, showing that it also served as Duo's desk and not a place to eat. One ate at the counter in the kitchen area, which was cleared off save for a telephone and a large jar of pens and pencils.   
  
Once done looking around the apartment and noticing that it was pretty much what I expected from Duo's personality, my eyes moved to him as I lowered the bottle and closed it. He moved around the kitchen, in the process of making himself a quick sandwich with one hand while he glanced at the file Mari had given him. He flipped through a few papers in it and then looked up at me, taking a bite and offering a welcoming smile.  
  
"You can come and sit down or something. It's not much of a place but that wholly depends on one's style."  
  
I nodded and moved to the counter top, sitting up on one of the stools. "It isn't bad." I admitted. I could see the definite advantages to having a studio apartment. One could keep a constant eye on anyone they invited over and there wasn't much of a way to lose things in numerous rooms with countless nooks and crannies. Here nearly everything was in plan view… with the exception of the large chest sitting at the end of Duo's bed.  
  
I also noticed that his bed was empty. Not a single blanket or quilt on it, and a completely uncovered pillow. Either he'd just done the laundry, or for some reason there wasn't anything on it. But I highly doubted that Duo slept on nothing but a plain mattress, though I'll admit that I'm not judge of sleeping habits, considering I have many strange ones of my own.  
  
"So… the plan." Duo pulled a stool around the counter to his side and slipped halfway onto it.   
  
I glanced at him, waiting for him to continue.  
  
"I get to talk to Quatre tomorrow to see how things will actually go. But honestly, until then, I don't have much information that I can share with you on anything." He gave me a weak smile. "I probably sound like a horrible host."  
  
  
  
I shook my head as he took another bite of his sandwich. "No, you don't know anything about me, so it makes sense."  
  
He chuckled softly and leaned forward on the counter. For a moment he watched me, with a small smile on his face. His expression was almost one of taunting; hinting that he knew something I didn't. I frowned back at him.  
  
"I have a feeling about you." He shrugged, as if it was nothing. I blinked at him for a moment and we spent the next few minutes just watching each other in silence. I was trying to read him; I didn't know why he was watching me. But he was the first to break the contact and moved fluidly back to where his sandwich and file were, like it was nothing.   
  
I wanted to know what he meant. He had a feeling about me? What in the world had he meant by that? But I didn't press the question, knowing that any answer he could give me would only make me wonder more. Instead I stayed silent, pondering over his words and strange phrase.  
  
"There's the bathroom," he said pointing. "And I'd offer you Mari's bed, but I doubt you want to wake up in the middle of the night with a computer chip lodged in your back. So I hope the couch works for now." He turned away from me, finishing off the rest of his sandwich and walked over to the table-desk and sat down. "Quatre said you'd have to stay here, for now, until we learn more about you. So there's not much more I can do about living arrangements. We can, however, go pick up some clothes and stuff for you. I've got enough money to lend you for a while."  
  
I turned in the stool and couldn't help but frown a bit. "I don't like hand outs, people always expect payment back."  
  
He nodded, seeming to understand. "Fine, then I'm loaning it to you until you get a job. There's no point in arguing, since there's only so many days that you can wear one set of clothes until they need to be washed or fall apart."  
  
I watched his back as he moved over to the table and sat down, not looking at me. He shrugged off my look in silence then began to shuffle through the papers, scribbling down things on a legal pad in sloppy handwriting. Once again my mind puzzled over him.  
  
He had a feeling about me? What was that supposed to mean? I couldn't understand him at all. In the short time that I'd come to know Duo, he didn't make any sense. He seemed infinitely friendly and trusting, almost to the point that it resembled stupidity, at least in my view. Yet he had somehow gained a daughter, who I assumed was adopted, and then turned around and claimed he had no family? He was too young to be part of this organization, but his eyes spoke of more age then his body.  
  
I leaned back in my stool against the counter. What had this boy seen that made him this way? What had happened in his life, to make him so sure of his own judgement that he would trust me right off the bat, when I wasn't even sure if I trusted myself.  
  
"You're awfully trusting of me," I remarked softly from behind him. My eyes watched him, judging his movements as he paused in what he was doing and set down his pencil, though he didn't look back at me.  
  
"I don't know, I would say you're the one who's trusting."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"You're on my turf." He said, leaning back in his chair and hooking his hands behind his long braid. "You trust me enough to stay here, at my own house, without a second question. How do you know this isn't part of some elaborate plot or something? How do you know I won't handcuff you and accuse you of murder the moment you close your eyes, or better yet, murder you myself?"   
  
I resisted a small, cold smirk at that as I crossed the room to the couch he'd indicated. This time I mimicked his style, though I'm not sure why. Shrugging, like he had done many times around me, I settled down on the couch.   
  
"You don't have the eyes of a killer." I said simply.  
  
I then closed my eyes and laid down, resting quietly on the semi-soft cushions. I didn't have to open my eyes and look at him to know he was staring at me. He hadn't expected me to give that answer.   
  
But then again…  
  
I hadn't expected an answer like that to come from my own mouth either.  
  
***  
  
I pride myself on my memory, because it's nearly flawless… as long as you don't ask me what happened more then a year ago. If one doesn't take into account the large blank spot that covers the majority of my life, everything else comes back to me clear as if it were happening right at this moment. I can still remember exactly what was on my former employer's desk the minute he hired me, and what was on it when I was fired. It doesn't matter if the fact is trivial or infinitely important; it will stay there in my mind without any effort on my part.   
  
I have always thought it strange, but it was simply another one of my strange habits that I learned to live with. There's just one problem with memory in my case: instinct takes precedence to all information I've learned or memorized.  
  
So when I woke up the next morning to find myself lying in a dark, unfamiliar room; my body reacted immediately, while my mind was still struggling to keep up. Without moving, my eyes slowly opened and scanned the darkness around me. I pinpointed the objects nearest to me and then searched out any other people in the room. I found one, lying in a bed across the room, snoring softly.  
  
I didn't think. Instead, I moved silent as a nocturnal predator, rising off of the couch I'd been lying on and moving toward his bed. Along the way I grabbed a sharp and gleaming letter opener from the kitchen table, the dull blade fitting into my hand as if it were second nature. Silent steps brought me across the room in no time until I was standing over his bed and only then did I pause.  
  
He lay silently below my raised hand, his long braid of hair frayed and slowly pulling itself out into a tangled mess. He wore nothing but a white tank top and a loose pair of black shorts, his golden cross still hanging around his neck. In the pale light of the morning his entire form was bathed in a light blue hue, looking peaceful and calm.   
  
It was at that point that my memory caught up with me and I froze, my face growing cold as I felt a shiver move down my spine. My own eyes widened as my sleep-dulled mind comprehended exactly what I'd been about to do. A step back and my hand dropped, the letter opener falling from my hand to clatter noisily on the floor. I took a few more steps back and leaned back against the wall, holding my hands tight together to stop them from shaking.  
  
What had I been thinking?!  
  
What could have possibly possessed me to even consider…  
  
I took a few deep breaths to attempt to calm myself and finally managed to relax enough for my hand to stop shaking wildly. I allowed myself another long breath then opened my eyes to glance over toward the bed.  
  
A pair of violet eyes watched me silently, the rest of him showing no sign of movement. Had I not seen his eyes I probably would have thought he was still asleep. His eyes didn't even look down to the letter opener now lying abandoned on the floor, but rather they watched me quickly, watching and waiting.  
  
Mentally grasping a hold of myself I forced the rising panic in my mind and body to retreat. Working with what seemed like practiced discipline I ordered my body to calm down, piece by piece… and it listened. Long minutes passed as I leaned there silently, working to calm myself as he watched. Long minutes, seeming like an eternity when I doubt it was more then a handful. Finally I deemed myself relaxed enough and slid back a bit more to sit on the stool behind me, running a hand through my sleep rustled hair.  
  
Duo sat up slowly in bed, never taking his eyes off of me. His face was blank and passive, no trace of the grin he'd worn before. It took me a second to notice it, but when I saw his expression I realized that he'd seen everything. I hadn't woken him up with the letter opener clattering on the floor; rather he'd been awake since I'd moved off the couch. Had I been anyone else I'm sure my cheeks would have burnt in shame at that realization, but I had better control over my emotions than that.  
  
"Are you all right now?" He asked softly.  
  
I swallowed and nodded. "I don't know what came over me," I muttered, attempting to come up with some kind of excuse for my strange behavior. No, that was a complete lie, I knew what had happened to me. I'd woken up and heard another in the room and something in my mind had switched, telling me to immediately deem it as a threat. And all threats were to be eliminated, in the most expedient manner possible. I shuddered lightly as that thought flashed through my head, then proceeded to shove it away into the deepest recesses of my mind.  
  
Duo said nothing, still watching me quietly. I wonder if he was confused at what to do or just incredibly patient with me. Either way I knew I'd lost any trust I'd managed to gain with him. I didn't deserve it at all now; I'd just nearly killed him.  
  
After a long moment I lifted my eyes and looked at him. "You knew I was awake."  
  
He nodded, agreeing with my short statement.  
  
"Then why didn't you stop me? If you knew what I was doing, why didn't you move to stop me? You had no way of knowing that I wouldn't do it."  
  
Finally Duo's eyes dropped to the glinting piece of metal on the floor. He just watched it for a moment, not looking at me this time. "Would you believe I was scared shitless?" He asked in a softer voice, before moving to meet my eyes again, his face now holding a small smirk. "Besides, had I done anything I might have set you off more. I had to trust that you would realize what you were doing before it happened."  
  
I snorted softly and stepped off the stool, moving back over to the couch. "Then you're a fool."  
  
"A fool who was right."  
  
I stopped at that, pausing in mid-step. I didn't have to turn around to see his grin; I could hear it in his voice. How in the world could he be smiling at a time like this? I'd nearly killed him and here he was grinning at me like it was nothing? What kind of person was he?  
  
"I nearly killed you, and now you're laughing at me." I muttered as I went about folding up the blanket he'd let me use. Without facing him I switched my shirt for the fresh one he'd laid out on the coffee table before he'd gone to sleep.   
  
"Nearly being the keyword in that sentence. You nearly killed me, but something stopped you. It's the fact that you stopped that counts."  
  
I glanced over my shoulder at him, blinking in confusion. "How do you know I'll stop next time?"  
  
Duo smirked at me as he walked over to the bathroom, a pile of clothes in hand. "Well, I guess I better not piss you off then, ne?"  
  
I could only stare at him for that answer, as he shut the wall-screen and changed in the bathroom.   
  
What kind of person was he?  
  
And why do I feel so threatened by him?  
  
***  
  
An hour later we were entering Branch 2 again, and I found myself stepping into that familiar fake lobby. The man at the front desk only glanced at us this time, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. But he didn't stand up to defend his little part of the illusion, so he must have been briefed that I was now someone who could enter. I wasn't surprised to see Duo grin and wink at him before we entered the elevator, making Milliardo glare even more.   
  
"Morning dad!" Mari's voice greeted us as soon as the elevator door opened to the basement. She stood there in her white shift, two pens tucked behind her left ear this time, as she glanced through a printout that was in her hands. A second later she smiled brightly at me.   
  
"I have everything set up, if you're ready to start. Or do you need to talk to Quatre first?"  
  
I glanced over at Duo for the answer.  
  
"Nope, he's all yours Mari. I do have to go see Quatre about some stuff, so I won't be back until later. Hope you don't mind watching him until then."  
  
Mari shook her head and beckoned me to follow her to her lab area, which I did. I didn't glance back at Duo and didn't even glare at him for the comment that made Mari seem like she was babysitting me. Because in a way I suppose she was. Duo seemed to have endless trust in me, but the others were still cautious. I honestly wouldn't have been surprised if they'd posted guards around me to make sure I didn't do anything, twenty four seven. Guards posted would have been safe, well, safe until I'd decided to run. Then I had a feeling I would have sent them home in body bags. That thought scared me.  
  
So I wasn't about to complain.  
  
"If you want to sit there, I can explain this stuff." Mari pulled herself up onto a table across from me, next to a computer that seemed to be waiting for this task. Meanwhile I sat down in the chair she'd indicated, my eyes glancing over the computers surrounding us for clues of what she had planned. I found nothing helpful.   
  
Mari leaned back and smiled at me. "The photo search went through and so did the fingerprints. Turns out you have no record, least nothing that I can find. And that's saying a lot. No criminal record, no school record, not even a stray photo from a picture in a crowd. And believe me, I looked everywhere. Nothing came up on the fingerprints either, which leaves us at a dead end for both of those." She frowned for a moment in thought.  
  
"What about the hospital I was at? Wouldn't they have something on file?"  
  
"You would think. But if they do, then it's hardcopy and I can't get to it with my computers. Anything like that means I'd need a name to work off of."  
  
"Which I don't have."  
  
She nodded. "Exactly my problem. Oddly enough, names are easier to search for then faces." Mari's face went back to a small smile and she seemed to get a bit more excited now. "So… you trust me enough to let me run some tests? I don't have all the big expensive professional equipment, but I assembled pretty good copies that just don't look nearly as good as they would in a hospital. I promise none of this involves cutting you up, and the only thing that is even the least bit dangerous is the x-ray, but I have all the stuff to protect you from that. I obviously can't do an MRI, we'd have to sneak into a hospital to pull that one off."  
  
"Lets start then."  
  
I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little eager to learn about myself. I knew she didn't have all the necessary equipment, but this small lab held more clues than I'd seen since I'd woken up hazily in that hospital room and stumbled out into the street. I was hesitant to let someone so young use machines she'd assembled on her own, but the anticipation outweighed my doubts.   
  
Tests filled the afternoon, exploring every possibility the two of us could come up with. As she ran the ones she'd come up with, I occasionally offered ideas. We followed every minute detail, if it was within our power. Hours passed without thought, both of us intent on the search. I answered her questions as much as I could, all the while the hope growing inside me. I'd never allowed myself to actually worry about my missing memory before. I'd just accepted it and concentrated on living and surviving instead. But now that it was the main question of the hour, I found myself hoping that we would find something.  
  
Anything.  
  
Like any other human I wanted to know who I was. I wanted to find something familiar within all the mist. I wanted something I could grasp on to. Some piece of solid information that could act as a window, a door, or even just a clue to who I was.  
  
In a matter of hours knowing I was alive wasn't enough. The name I'd adopted wasn't enough.  
  
I wanted to know my real name.  
  
***  
  
"Nothing."  
  
I watched silently as Mari looked over the papers again. Then, with a frustrated sigh, she let them drop to the floor and leaned back lightly against a large hard drive.   
  
"Nothing, absolutely nothing." She gave another over-dramatic sigh then sat back up and fixed her elbows on her knees so she could lean her chin on her hands while she looked at me. I looked right back, not even trying to hide the disappointment I knew was in my expression. I knew it wasn't a good idea to let my hopes get up, but I'd done it anyway. And now I was left worse off then before, my hope scattered about me. Of course, my expression just looked a bit depressed; I wasn't one for large displays of emotion, no matter what the situation.  
  
"You know, you're some piece of work." She said after a moment, her green eyes traveling over my face. "As far as I can tell there's nothing wrong with your memory. You passed all the tests with exceptionally high skills for someone your approximate age. As far as I can tell there's absolutely nothing wrong with you!"  
  
"Except that I can't remember myself."  
  
"Exactly. And one would think we could trigger it or something, considering it's selective memory loss. I'd be majorly worried if you didn't remember things like how to speak or eat or walk, but you know all that stuff. It's like someone hit the erase button on your brain and cleaned out everything but the cache folder. All the everyday stuff is there, it's the memory that's crashed."  
  
I smiled softly at that and resisted the urge to give a chuckle. How like her it seemed to compare my brain to a computer system. The amusement only lasted for a second though as I glanced at the computer screens and print outs around us. Hours of testing and I was back where I'd started. I hadn't admitted it to her before, but I knew that not having enough money wasn't the only reason I hadn't talked to people at the hospital. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I had to admit I was afraid that there actually were no answers to my questions.  
  
"Well, lets try this the old fashioned way then."  
  
I moved out of my own thoughts and glanced up at her. "Old fashioned way?"  
  
She nodded, shifting to cross her legs on the table, where she sat next to one of the large hard drives. "Tell me what you remember after you woke up. The first thing in your mind. Maybe if we follow this chronologically we can get somewhere. Like trying to remember a dream or something."  
  
I closed my eyes and frowned softly, trying to concentrate on my memories. The farther I tried to go back, the more hazy they were, but it was worth a try, even if I'd done this countless times on my own. But this time I focused, trying to call the actual memories to mind. I'm not a talkative person, but I forced myself to completely describe the images that moved through my mind, trying desperately to find any common thread that could help me.  
  
"It's hazy, in scattered images. I remember white hallways and a few scattered people, but they don't pay attention to me. I think I woke up before this because I remember lying in the bed, so I must have laid there for a while healing. Then I remember one night sneaking out, and no one caught me. I stumbled out onto the cold street and hid in the alley way, I think. Because I remember finding a body there, a poor man who'd frozen to death or something along those lines - I didn't check to see if he was breathing. I stole his shirt, replacing the one I had from the hospital, and his wallet. Then the next thing I remember is waking up in an abandoned apartment room with a broken window. I think I broke in after stealing the man's wallet and stayed there, resting until I got my strength back." I opened my eyes and looked at her quietly.  
  
Marimeia jumped off the table she'd been sitting on and landed with a small splash in the water. "Can you remember what hospital it was? Anything special about it, that might stand out?"  
  
"There weren't many people working there, only a handful of nurses and orderlies. And… they're clean."  
  
She stopped and turned back to me in question. "Clean? What do you mean?"  
  
"Exceptionally clean. More so then a hospital should be. The place was so clean it could have glowed." I frowned more, thinking over the mental images.  
  
"But all hospitals are like that…"  
  
"No, this one was more so than most. Something about that is important." As I said this I didn't even really believe my own words. I knew hospitals were clean, that was common sense. So why did this make such a bit difference? But at the same time I could vividly see the nurses in their perfectly pressed outfits, their ironed hats that matched the uniforms. Shining name tags with perfectly printed letters-  
  
"Money."  
  
"What?"  
  
I met her eyes and couldn't help giving a small smile. "Money. The hospital had a lot of money. Enough to pay for more elite things. The name tags, the uniforms. Definite money."  
  
"And it took you that long to figure that out?"  
  
I turned around, instinct taking over as I jumped out of my chair and turned to quickly face the unfamiliar voice. I frowned as I spotted another man standing in the doorway, holding a folder in his hands. I hadn't heard him come in and normally anyone that close to my hearing would have been noticed in a second. But I'd been too intent on Mari and trying to figure out my situation. That was another point against myself, and I scolded myself for it harshly.  
  
"You're going to lose your title of the human file cabinet, kid," he said, with a smirk as he stepped into the room. The minute his foot splashed into the thin layer of water he looked down with a grimace, shaking his shoe off a bit. But he recovered a second later and approached us.  
  
He was dressed as a city cop, his uniform not hidden in the least by the black leather jacket he wore over it. I could easily see the flash of his badge against his light blue shirt and I knew it was something he wasn't trying to hide and had no reason to. Coal black hair was pulled back neatly and perfectly into a thin ponytail, accenting his strong Chinese features and chocolate brown eyes. Everything about him was neatly taken care of with what almost seemed like an obsessive order. I could tell he had a high self image and he knew how to use it. This one was used to being in control of the situation and he was good at it. Everything about him hinted that he was usually the one in control and I wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.  
  
Mari didn't have nearly the same extreme reaction as me. Instead of standing there and looking annoyed that someone had stepped into her territory without her permission, she seemed quite pleased. The young girl responded with a bright smile and rushed over, but not too fast so that she didn't make many splashes in the water. In a couple seconds she was hugging him, a happy smile on her face. He hugged her back, returning the smile in spite of the stiffness of his first impression. After they'd shared their greeting he turned his attention to me. I frowned a bit at him in caution, but otherwise began to relax. Mari was comfortable with him here, which counted for at least something.  
  
"And you must be Trowa." He commented as he disengaged from her hug. Mari turned around and stepped back toward me in the gesture of a good host as I nodded to his statement.  
  
"Trowa, meet Officer Chang Wufei; he's the local police contact for Branch 2." She paused for a second then turned and hit him playfully in the shoulder. "And I am not a human file cabinet!"  
  
Wufei smirked at her, then headed in my direction as I forced myself to relax. I didn't know him but first impressions count for something and so did Mari's reaction. This police officer gave the impression of someone who would strangle himself before he even considered stabbing someone in the back, literally or figuratively. Pressed perfection and a confident step urged trust in his movements and I gave in to that urge, trusting my instincts. When he walked up to me and extended his hand, I clasped it firmly in greeting, a definite show of trust on my part.  
  
"So you're the mystery everyone's been talking about. The kid wouldn't keep quiet about you last night. She made you out to be this great big enigma of medical science."  
  
I glanced toward Mari in question, biting down on my response. A week ago I would have been annoyed at so many people suddenly taking an interest in my life. But I'd given them my permission so I had to bite my tongue and just settle for making sure they were people I could trust. I didn't like that Mari had spoken about me with someone else without telling me first, but at the same time I acknowledged her need to search for information and talk to other sources. Plus, I'd never actually stated that I wanted my lack of memory to remain a secret. I couldn't change what had already been done, besides, now I was curious what information this police officer had brought.  
  
Mari shrugged at me, looking a little embarrassed. She must have noticed my reaction to him showing up. "He can get to files I can't," she offered in explanation. I nodded to her, still intent on Wufei, waiting for him to share these… files.  
  
Wufei stepped in right after Mari's comment and handed her the folder from his hand. "And I found your hospital."  
  
I didn't keep the surprise out of my expression, didn't even try. Instead, I walked over to stand beside Mari and peer over her shoulder at the file Wufei had brought. The first page was simply a printout with various paragraphs that appeared to describe the history behind the hospital and various other bits of information, like a list of doctors who were employed there. Mari flipped past that page to look at the second one though, before I could read it in more detail.  
  
The second page caught my interest immediately and I reached over her shoulder, tapping the photo attached to the page with a single metal paperclip. The photo was a Polaroid, taken quickly for data purposes more then a photo album. It held only the front of a non-descript white building, with normal office doors that were shadowed to not let any see inside without effort. The photo had caught a single person walking through the door, their body blurred lightly with the motion at that moment. But it was also far enough back for me to see the general shape of the building and the company's icon on the door. I nodded, tapping the picture once more.  
  
"That's it."  
  
Mari stopped flipping through the file and turned to look at me over her shoulder. "You sure?"  
  
I nodded. Despite my hazy memory of those first few days, there was no forgetting the front of that building. I remembered stumbling into the alley across the street from the hospital, before I'd found the real Trowa's body, and sitting there completely still watching the hospital door to make sure no one had followed me out. Even though it had been night at the time and there wasn't any light, I could remember the white front of the hospital, which shone in the darkness as a few people hurried down the street, not noticing me or the frozen body in the alley behind me.  
  
"Very sure."  
  
A sound from behind interrupted us, reminiscent of a very computerized sounding cat growl. I blinked and looked up as Mari handed me the file and ducked under and around me to get to one of her computers, where the noise had apparently come from. A few keystrokes from her quick fingers and the sound repeated itself once more. Wufei followed me as I maneuvered around her various computer parts to stand behind her, where we found her leaning over and reading what appeared to be some sort of instant messenger. She responded a few more times before turning to face me.  
  
"Looks like Q wants to see you in his office. Dad's up there too and they want to talk to you about stuff." She closed the window and turned toward me completely. "I'll take you up there."  
  
Both of us headed for the elevator, leaving Wufei to take a seat and wait for Mari to return. As we stepped into the car, waiting for it to take us up to the floor Quatre's office was on, I handed the file back to Mari, knowing she'd want to talk more with Wufei about it while I was gone. I felt a little offended that I had to be escorted by a child to another floor, but at the same time I understood the need. Trust only went so far and I hadn't earned much yet, at least not enough to walk or wander around such a well-guarded building. Curiosity non-withstanding, I understood their caution. Any more questions I had about Branch 2 would have to wait until they'd gotten used to me being around enough for me to ask. Though, I had a feeling that this upcoming meeting would make things a bit easier to ask questions.  
  
Either way, after I was done speaking with Duo and Quatre, I planned to go check out the hospital. 


	6. Chapter 5

Part 5  
  
Not even two full days and I was already becoming accustomed to this office building and all its secretive ways. I watched as Mari swiped the card in the elevator and the door closed on us so we stood in silence. I took the moment to glance at Mari and wonder about her. This child was brilliant for her age, that I could easily tell from just spending half the day with her. She was young and brilliant, and yet I was beginning to suspect, that like Duo, she had something deep within her that was hidden. At moments her eyes showed the same darkness as his purple orbs. And somehow, I suspected that those two weren't the only ones who shared that particular look in their eyes here at Branch 2.   
  
The doors opened and we stepped out into the familiar blue hallway. My mind immediately counted down the doors, pinpointing which ones led to Quatre's office and the door Dorothy disappeared behind the day before. We stopped at another one of the identical doors and Marimeia gave a light knock, before opening it a bit for me. Then she smiled and took a step back.  
  
"I'll tell you if Fei and I find anything else."  
  
With that she turned and walked to the elevator, an obvious bounce in her step. It was quite clear she looked forward to talking to Captain Chang and hearing what information he had. I wasn't surprised at her behavior either, considering her demeanor. Anything to learn more information and gain more knowledge, she seemed to be addicted to learning. And it only made things better for her that I'd provided her with a particularly difficult puzzle to solve, namely myself.  
  
I pushed open the door in front of me and walked in to find myself in a small conference room. Not surprisingly it was the exact same dimensions of Quatre's office which led me to believe that all the rooms on this floor were the exact same size, they were just decorated for different purposes. While Quatre's office walls were covered with bookshelves, this room simply held a large redwood table and a modest amount of video equipment, naming it as a briefing or conference room of some sort. The overhead light was left neglected and off, in favor of the large bay windows on one side of the room, which allowed every surface to be covered with natural sunlight -- even with their secretive, musty tint. Quatre sat at the head of the table, wearing a business suit, with a casual colored tie and a welcoming smile on his face.   
  
Duo stood out next to him, in his usual manner, sitting in black jeans and a midnight blue shirt. Like the first time I met him, the golden cross around his neck glinted in the sunlight, standing out against his unusual casualness. And, as usual, his ever present well-natured and slightly mischievous grin was turned to me, silently greeting me as I stood there. He was obviously attempting to make me feel more welcome at what looked like an important corporate meeting.   
  
The third member of the meeting wasn't nearly as welcoming as her companions though. Dorothy sat stiffly in her seat and yet looked completely comfortable in the corporate setting. Her icy blue eyes glared at me, lending no illusions to how she felt about my presence in that room, the coldness adding to my already growing discomfort. Severe clothing completed her look, consisting of a perfectly pressed suit jacket and lacy blouse, complete with a tie and black sleek skirt. Her arms were crossed and pressed against her chest, further communicating her obvious disgust at my presence. To say she didn't approve of me as a horrible understatement. She made that perfectly clear.  
  
"Come in and have a seat, Trowa." Quatre's voice came out as warm and welcoming, working to counter the blond woman's effect. I spared Dorothy one last glance before placing her expression at the back of my mind and stepping forward. Pulling out the nearest chair, I took his advice, and slid into the seat, watching him.   
  
It was quite clear to me that Quatre was in control of this situation, and of the whole company, if that was even the right word. Despite the apparent lax in dress-code and formality, there was no doubt that the young man was in charge. It wasn't so much communicated in his manner, but rather in the manner of those around him. Had he not been in control, I doubt Duo would have stayed quiet this long. He hadn't even raised his hand in greeting, which must be something significant considering what I knew of his social nature. On the same note, Dorothy was also keeping her mouth shut. I had no doubt that, had Quatre not been in control, she would have made her disapproval of me very vocal. She looked about ready to burst in anger but was making no movement to act on her emotions; so the blond man held considerable power over both of them… and probably Branch 2 as a whole. He certainly wasn't just a figure head, and that bore remembering. Power and respect were present in this room and there was no question about it.  
  
As I sat down, Quatre leaned back in his chair, making the atmosphere significantly less formal in a simple movement. I immediately felt more at ease, much to my own surprise. "Duo has told us of your whole situation and I've come to a decision."  
  
I nodded, noticing his phrasing which supported my thoughts. He was in control; it was his decision and no one else's.   
  
"I would like to offer you help with getting your identity back."  
  
I frowned and glanced at Duo, wondering exactly what he'd said of me. What had he told them? Had he spoken of my actions before I'd lost my job? Had he spoken of my peculiar action that morning with the letter opener? What impressions had he shared… for that matter what were his impressions of me? My frown deepened a bit and I looked back to Quatre, directing my question to him.   
  
"Why?"  
  
Quatre nodded, as if expecting my inquiry. He folded his hands together, atop the table in full view. Every move he made, every expression that seemed to pass across his face and body was exact and precise. He had a natural talent for expressing himself in words and actions, to the point that his feelings and words were crystal clear for all to see, and beyond that he commanded even the atmosphere in the room with the single flexing of a muscle. Everything in his movements was aimed to make me feel more at ease, and it might have worked on anyone else, but not me. I noticed his intention and my unease only grew. One couldn't trust people who held that much control over their every action and breath, because it only hinted at how much control they might have of other things. Such control was only harnessed for purposes of deception and leading others to believe what you wanted them too. Not to mention that his very manner seemed almost… familiar to me.   
  
My frown deepened a little more as I listened to him, carefully taking in all his words for what they said, and what they actually meant under the surface.  
  
"I don't believe in pity or charity and thus I don't offer it to people. Now, I could be wrong, but I doubt it. As a person with amnesia, I'm sure you are curious about your past, most would be. We have the resources here to help you, if you wish, but I frown on free rides. So, I'm going to offer you a job, so to speak. Duo seems to have taken an interest in you so it would involve helping him with his current investigation into the deaths of Middi Une and the real Trowa Barton. This investigation could easily pull up extra information on you as well, given your choice of names. So it only seems to make sense that you two should be placed together as a team."  
  
"You seem pretty confident that I've already decided to stay or that I even care about my past."  
  
Duo blinked at me for that and even Dorothy seemed surprised at my response. The only one in the room I didn't faze was Quatre, and to be honest I hadn't expected to . Rather than reacting with surprise, he merely looked amused at my response.   
  
"You think I sound over confident?"  
  
I nodded, resisting the urge to smirk. I liked the deceivingly young blond who owned this building. He was a born leader, or had been trained very well in his life. He took to the role well, not nervous at all. And, like Duo and Marimeia, he has that same light in his eyes which hinted at someone who was much older mentally then his biological traits portrayed.   
  
"Overconfident yes," I conceded. "But not without reason. I would like to find out who I was, especially considering the information just discovered today."  
  
"So you're staying?" Duo's voice seemed a bit excited and I couldn't help but glance at him in question. He flashed myself and Quatre an embarrassed little smile. "Excuse my outburst," he added quickly and quietly. Quatre gave him a very small nod, silently dismissing the slip.  
  
"What is the exact offer, if I agree to stay and… become a part of Branch 2?"  
  
"Dorothy?" Quatre looked to her, and I took her to be in charge of such things as expenses and other such related business. But there was no thought in my mind that she was any more a 'simple secretary' than Milliardo was. Dorothy held a significantly more important position in Branch 2, I was sure, even if I didn't know what that was yet. It just seemed to fit her severe manner.  
  
The young blond woman took a moment to glare at me as she gathered her papers together and gently tapped them against the table to straighten out an already perfect pile. "You would receive a salary, like any other employee, but we currently have no room in the employee dorm. Thus you would have to stay with Mr. Maxwell or another one of our associates. You would help with his current investigation and in repayment you would have access to as much of our resources as we could offer to assist you in your… unique case. And, in the future, should you find out who you are and or receive enough information that you are satisfied; we will re-evaluate your case if you wish to remain here with us as a member of Branch 2 or if you wish to move on." She paused and frowned more. "And let me say, right now, that I hope you do move on. The sooner the better."  
  
"Dorothy." Quatre's voice held a deep tone of disapproval. "That's enough."  
  
For a moment she glared back at him, some old disagreement seeming to appear in her eyes. I got the distinct feeling that had Duo and I not been in the room, this small comment would have grown into a full blown yelling match between the two. But since we were present, Dorothy conceded a few minutes later by looking down and concentrating on her pile of papers. Quatre, meanwhile, turned his attention back to us with a calm smile, as if nothing had happened. He folded his hands together as he waited for my answer.  
  
I didn't respond right away, still weighting out all the options in my mind. I wasn't blind, I'd caught the hidden meanings behind their words. Branch 2 wasn't a place you could just walk out of, no matter what impression they were trying to give me. The level of secrecy and professionalism made it seem like a secret society with only a one way door leading in. Despite the young age of the employees which I'd met, I had no illusions. Dorothy had laid out clearly that my position would be re-evaluated, obviously meaning that when this was all over they would decide if I would stay with the business or just never step out again. Judging what I knew about all of them so far, I doubted I would be killed if I left with all the information I could gather, but there were worse things people could do then kill you, and despite the painted innocence of the blond who ran the show, I didn't disillusion myself as to what he was capable of.  
  
Membership in Branch 2 was final. No matter how friendly they seemed or how welcoming their expressions, that one fact could not be hidden from sight. And yet, I still met Quatre's eyes and gave him a nod, signaling that I agreed. Willingly I fastened those chains around my wrists, even if they were invisible. I agreed willingly to become a member of Branch 2, because right now it was the only clue I had to who I was. Once I discovered that, then I would concentrate on picking the locks, which I knew I was perfectly capable of. I'd disappeared from that hospital in a half-conscious state, I could disappear from Branch 2 easily enough.  
  
I watched as a smile crossed Quatre's face, a welcoming and warm smile. He stood up and walked over to me, clasping his hand on my shoulder. I didn't like the contact, but I allowed it, there were some times when it was appropriate to let others touch you.  
  
"Welcome to the team, Trowa Barton."  
  
***  
  
I felt another hand rest on my shoulder as I stepped out of the room with Duo. My instinct kicked in this time and I let it, jerking away and whirling around to face Dorothy with a narrow glare. Her icy eyes reflected the glare back at me with just as much anger and hatred.   
  
"I don't like you here. I object and disapprove in every possible way. You are not welcome here, and I want to make that very clear. I will personally make sure that your every move is watched with the most detailed attention and scrutiny. I disapprove of our presence here and do not presume that I will not make every attempt to make sure you leave as soon as humanly possible."  
  
"You're entitled to your opinion."  
  
My answer was short and sweet compared to her long string of threats. It only resulted in her glare narrowing more and her hands clenching into fists around that pile of papers, which were now wrinkled at the sides. I kept my face blank of all expression as I watched her anger surge through her body. We stood there for a few minutes before she finally gave up.   
  
Turning with a huff of frustration and fury she headed down the hallway to the same door that she'd disappeared into a day earlier. Mentally I noted that room as her office, considering how she slammed the door loudly, signaling her anger and frustration in a childish manner. End of conversation.  
  
I turned back to Duo, not surprised to find him standing there with a look of confusion. He blinked at me a few times and glanced back at Dorothy's door, then back to me. A nervous smile crossed his lips as he relaxed and ran a hand over his braid. "Man, how the heck can you do that? She scares the shit out of me. That must be some glare you've got there."  
  
I shrugged and headed past him to the elevator. Duo recovered and quickly caught up to me, nearly dropping the small folder of papers Quatre had handed to him at the end of the meeting. He stepped up beside me as I hit the down button.  
  
"Wait, where are you going?"  
  
"I'm assuming that we're headed somewhere else. This hallway is obviously only used for official business, and since we were just dismissed from the meeting and you didn't lead me into another room to talk, I'm assuming that we are going to discus that folder in another place."  
  
Duo grinned at me. "You could come in useful with those psychic visions of yours."  
  
"Hardly," I shrugged again as the elevator doors opened and we stepped in.   
  
Duo pressed the button for the lobby and leaned back against the wall as the small car began to move. "I figure we should go get something to eat and then I can explain all this stuff to you about this case. Then, maybe, you can share with me what the kid found while you were downstairs."  
  
I nodded. That seemed like the best course of action, so I wasn't about to object. In fact, I was curious what he had to tell me about everything.   
  
Passing through the lobby, with the required teasing of Milliardo by Duo, we stepped out into a busy, bustling street, alive with men and women in business suits, moving back and forth. Ties, suit jackets and brief cases flowed in and out of buildings and restaurants with their owners, all hoping to make it through the crowd with enough time to eat before returning to dive back into a desk full of paperwork. Duo and I waded through the sea of cell phones and pagers and palm pilots, the young man expertly leading me through the crowd with a definite direction in mind, and I easily followed.  
  
Two streets down, and located in an alley-like side road, was our destination. Sheltered from the noise and crowd, it was hardly noticeable and would have been easily missed, even by me, had Duo not been leading me. No sign adorned the front door; neither were there flashing lights or even a white board with a hastily written menu. The only front decoration attached to the dark red door was a small bar-light proclaiming a simple word: 'open'.  
  
Inside, the small restaurant contradicted itself on a fairly regular basis. Small tables pressed to cluster around each other and pulled away from the secluded booths gave the place an air of elite-ness while the cheap menu of simple foods made the place seemed more like a claustrophobic café. The majority of the tables were empty, leaving us with our choice of seats. Aside from us there was a younger man in the corner with his laptop, unfinished sandwich and half-full cup of coffee which had stopped steaming hours ago. Across from him, against the other wall, was a group of young women speaking in hushed and calm voices as they relaxed in their perfect business outfits and pointed high heels. Other then them the café was empty, and I had a feeling that this was one of the café's busier days.  
  
Duo beckoned me to a booth toward the back, away from the other two occupied tables. We both sat down and he took the menu in his hands.  
  
"Hungry?" He asked me as he flipped through the pages and glanced at the choices, avoiding my eyes. "We don't have to worry about time, there's nothing pressing we have to be back for."  
  
"Is Branch 2 always so lax on rules?"  
  
Duo's eyes flickered up to me in question. Then a smirk crossed his face and he set down the menu, pushing it across the table toward me. "It's not that the rules are lax. More that Quatre knows the stuff we look into and work with requires a very long leash. The leash is there, like any job, ours just lets us sneak into the neighbor's yard down the street." He ended with a grin, apparently amused with his own metaphor.  
  
I nodded a bit, not picking up the menu yet. "But it's a hidden and concealed leash as well, which explains the fake lobby, the mirrored hallway and the police contact meeting with Mari right now."  
  
"Fake lobby?" Duo nods. "Yep, complete with a dolled up secretary who isn't nearly as helpless as he looks. But don't call him fake to his face, he'll knock your jaw to the other side of your skull." He rubbed his own jaw in emphasis and I took a venture to guess that he'd made the same mistake once before. It wasn't hard to imagine his joking going a step too far and setting someone off.  
  
"Note taken." I frowned down at the menu, decided I wasn't that hungry, and looked back up at him. "Duo, what exactly are the details of this 'case'? Middi Une died months ago. The police don't care anymore. Why do you?"  
  
"Can I help you?"  
  
I frowned as the voice interrupted my question and train of thought. I turned that frown to the young lady who now stood at the edge of our table, a writing pad poised in her hand. She seemed completely unaffected by my glare, since her eyes were focused right on Duo. She was dressed a little too well for this job and her entire outfit begged for attention that she probably never received thanks to the sparse patronage. A tight button down white shirt and black skirt that was cut a little too high on her legs. She had her plum tinted hair pined up despite its short length and two pens tucked behind one ear. Duo, always the gracious guest, returned her bright smile and leaned back in his chair.   
  
"Just some drinks and privacy, we'll call you over when we're ready to order." Duo responded easily. The young woman nodded and didn't even bother writing that down on her pad. Obviously having been brushed off, she returned to the back with a sour expression. Duo, meanwhile, turned back to me, smirking.  
  
"Now, you were asking about Middi Une, and the real Trowa Barton for that matter, right?"  
  
I nodded and waited for him to continue. Not to my surprise he pulled out the folder he'd brought with him and opened it, sliding two pictures toward me.  
  
I recognized the one of the female within a second. Her long blond hair which had a soft curl to it and dark colored eyes were exactly the same as the female the cops had flashed pictures of after she'd stopped coming in every morning. It wasn't a surprise that I remembered the exact thing she ordered every morning, and not surprisingly I remembered she'd sat at the exact same table that Duo had occupied those two days at my previous place of employment. A frown crossed my face as I looked at the picture and pieced my own memories together.  
  
Using a single finger I pushed her photo aside to reveal a photo of someone who was apparently the real Trowa Barton. Once again, I had no trouble recognizing him. Granted, when I had found him, he wasn't nearly as clean-shaven as he looked in the picture. I remembered him being dressed hastily in a torn jacket, with smudges across his pale face, along with evidence of not shaving for a day or two. Auburn hair fell over the front of his face in long bangs, while the rest was cut short, giving him a very noticeable style. Of course, I hadn't noticed much of that when I'd stolen his wallet. And people tended to look quite different when they were dead.  
  
"He's the one." I slid the photos back to Duo. "I remember finding him slumped in an alleyway. I didn't realize he was dead until I'd managed to retrieve his wallet and determine if I could use the contents." I glanced up at him. "What does he have to do with all of this?"  
  
"Trowa Barton was on our list of potential employees. See, Branch 2 isn't exactly your normal run of the mill organization, but I'm sure you've noticed that already. We're sort of an extension off the local police and because of our unique talents we take over the cases that would be too much for them to handle, or cases of special interest. Chang, who I'm assuming you met with Mari, is the one who passes on the information and he also is in charge of making it disappear at the local stations. Middi Une is one of those cases. Her profile is in the folder if it interests you, but in short, she excelled in her forensics classes and would have been a great asset, not to mention," he added with a grin. "She's not too bad looking."  
  
"After Middi's death we couldn't find any information, and neither could the police. But then, just by chance, Mari crossed over a small bit of tidbit. Apparently she was secretly engaged… to Trowa Barton."  
  
I frowned and leaned back in my own chair, musing at the pictures from a distance. "So you think that someone killed Trowa because Branch 2 was interested in hiring him. And as for Middi… am I correct in assuming that she was found dead after you found out about their engagement and started searching for her whereabouts?"  
  
"Correct." Duo's expression took a more serious turn. "After a background check, we realized that she's also the type of person Branch 2 would be interested in hiring. I'm not in charge of the employee rosters, but you get the idea. Branch 2 isn't exactly the type of company to go just on grades and degrees. Personality takes a huge role, Dorothy and Milliardo of course being the exceptions. They have no personalities."  
  
"It just may be me, but telling a so-called new employee that your other prospective employees are being murdered the minute you start looking into them is not an effective hiring solution."  
  
Duo blinked at me for a moment, then a smirk crossed his face. "It's a high risk job, I guess, and don't you feel special. So, what did the kid find out about your past?"  
  
"Not much worth mentioning. She confirmed that there's nothing wrong with me and there's no reason why I should have such a huge blank spot. Other than that, we found the location of the hospital which I was apparently at prior to my so-called escape."  
  
"This is the same hospital by the alley you found Trowa's body in right?"  
  
I nodded. "It's across the street."  
  
"Think your memory's up for the challenge of finding the street if we head over there?"  
  
"As long they haven't remodeled the entire neighborhood it shouldn't be a problem."  
  
Duo grins and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, hitting an auto-dial button. "Then I'll get the address from Mari and we can head over there. I'll let you read the file in the taxi."  
  
I took the folder as he spoke on the phone to Mari. A glance at the profiles and my thoughts were confirmed that I wouldn't need to do much reading. I'd guessed pretty correctly about their backgrounds and there wasn't much else new except for details that wouldn't help too much at this point. Perhaps they would be important in the future, but not currently.  
  
I closed the folder and we headed out, after Duo waved to the disappointed waitress, telling her we didn't need the drinks anymore. She seemed to shrug it off and I guessed this was a common happenstance with Duo visiting the place. Tucking the folder under one arm, I followed him out the door and waited for him to hail a taxi. 


	7. Chapter 6

Part 6  
  
Our destination lay on the outskirts of town, a good couple of miles from Branch 2. We took a taxi there and passed through old business districts full of old warehouses and beat up cars, with a few falling down apartment houses in between. People walked and slept on the street sides, but their dress stood out in complete contrast to those of the business men and women only two or three streets back. The farther we drove the more out of place everything seemed, the scape outside melding into a dark and dreary atmosphere despite the clear weather. And even more interesting, was the fact that as we drove I recognized small alleyways and streets, even an old warehouse with the boarded up windows and water-faded sign on the front. The back of my mind acknowledged this area as the strange and unfamiliar surroundings I'd traveled through on my way away from the hospital.  
  
I shifted in my seat and waited for the taxi to pull up to our destination, not interested in looking out the window anymore. The entire area was familiar to me and something about it made me uncomfortable. It wasn't the stereotypical distrust one has of a downtown area, the feeling was more then that. I felt like I was being watched. Eyes seemed to be peering through all the dark windows that resisted the day light, cloaking their innards with shadows and dust. I felt as if the buildings themselves were watching me with narrowed eyes of distrust. It was almost like the area knew me, and was untrusting every time I returned.  
  
Duo's grin, as the taxi stopped, helped to ease some of my discomfort, but I doubt he noticed. I kept my facial expression in check, not willing to show how uncomfortable the area made me feel. Instead I just silently climbed out of the taxi and scanned the immediate buildings as Duo paid the driver. Once that was done, the two of us turned toward the hospital.  
  
Exactly like the photo, the front of the building stood out in a sharp and nearly blinding contrast to its rundown neighbors. Clean white walls with gleaming windows and perfectly trimmed bushes made the building look like it had been dropped out of no where and just sat there, in complete defiance of its surroundings.   
  
"Look familiar?" Duo asked me, watching my expression with a curious look.  
  
I nodded to him and turned completely around so that my back was to the hospital. Directly across the street was the small alleyway, crammed with overturned garbage cans and a single stray cat digging among the refuse for food. I pointed it out for him to see.  
  
"That's where Trowa's body was."  
  
Duo nods. "And that's exactly where the police found him, without any forms of identification. Chang was part of the team that spoke with the hospital workers."  
  
"And they found nothing suspicious at the hospital." I stated, turning back to look at the pristinely white building.  
  
"Basically yeah. But since this is tied to you we should go take a look anyway. It's not uncommon for the police to miss things."  
  
I nodded and lead the way into the building, keeping my eyes open for anything and everything.  
  
We entered the building and I stopped still in my tracks. The lobby came into view and this strange wave of images flowed over me. For a moment my eyes unfocused, the world around me becoming fuzzy and unclear as my memories took over. Overlaid on the image of the real lobby, I could see ghostly figures dressed in pressed white uniforms, clutching clipboards to their chests as they moved from room to room, hallway to hallway, and patient to patient. Nothing had changed from my memory a year ago, even though I'd barely paid attention as I'd stumbled out of the place. Everything was in the same place, from the lightly decorated carpet to the waiting room chairs, even down to the pencil cup and stapler on the receptionist's desk.   
  
My eyes refocused and I took a step forward to steady myself. I didn't look to see if Duo was behind me or if he'd noticed my strange behavior. Instead I simply walked forward, heading down one of the four branching off hallways. The smell of cleaning chemicals filled my nose, making my head feel a little light with their overpowering scent. I ignored them, along with the people I passed as I moved down the hall. I followed my memories, my mind playing them backward like a surveillance tape. Down the hallway… around the corner… four doors…  
  
Room 195.  
  
I stopped at the door for a moment, reaching up and placing my hand against the wood. In my mind I could remember pushing the door back from the other side as I stumbled out of the room. I'd tripped over one of the chairs in the hallway, my legs not quite obeying me, before I'd made my way out of the hospital. This was most definitely the same room I'd woken up in. And if I was in a room, that meant the hospital had my name. They had to have my name and at least a little information about me on file.  
  
My hopes rose and I gently pressed the door open, stepping inside.  
  
I wasn't able to see the inside of the room, for at that moment a firm hand grasped my shoulder and pulled me back a few steps. My body tensed and I spun around, but he managed to catch my arm in a firm grip, his large dark hand not allowing me any chance at movement.  
  
The man who stood before me was dressed in white, like all the other workers, but his uniform held a badge and a belt with a large heavy flashlight and a few small tools. A large yet grim face frowned back at me from behind a neatly trimmed beard. His body was bulky and I made a guess that he was actually part of the hospital's security that doubled as a repairman for minor jobs. In spite of his size I knew I could have easily pulled my hand away and moved past him, but I made no move to, not wishing to draw attention to myself.  
  
"Guests are required to check in at the desk and have an escort to the rooms. You aren't allowed back here."  
  
I frowned at him, listening to his deep voice rumble in his throat.   
  
"Trowa!" Duo raced up behind me and flashed a friendly smile at the large man. "I told you to be patient," he directed back at me, almost like a scolding brother. "I was checking us in, but you never listen to me, do you?"  
  
I pulled my hand away from the man and frowned at Duo, not at all amused at his cover-up story. Meanwhile Duo took my arm and pulled me back toward the desk.  
  
"Come on, they have to get your signature. It'll only take a second."  
  
I let Duo pull me back down the hallway, watching out of the corner of my eye. The large man made no sign of movement until after I couldn't see him anymore and we turned the corner. As soon as we were out of his sight I pulled my arm away from Duo. He slowed his pace and walked slowly beside me, his grin fading and his eyes scanning the halls.  
  
"This has got to be the most unfriendly hospital I've ever seen. Have you noticed all the guards in this place?"  
  
"Guards?" I blinked and looked around us. Surprisingly I found that Duo was right. Nearly all the hospital staff was taller and larger then average. The entire cleaning staff that was in sight, all had the build of bar bouncers, while even the female nurses and secretaries looked a little more muscled then usual, with slim but strong looking bodies.  
  
"And even more interesting. I asked, but there's no such thing as visiting hours. At least not without doctor's permission and previous arrangements. This place reeks of secrets."  
  
I nodded my agreement. "Much like your place of employment," I muttered back.  
  
Duo gave a soft chuckle and winked at me as he led the way to the front desk.  
  
"Excuse me miss, but I need to ask you a few questions."   
  
I watched Duo lean against the edge of the desk and a good natured and almost charming smile crossed his face as he focused his attention on the secretary. She responded to him with complete disinterest, her brown eyes looking at him dully with more then a hint of annoyance.  
  
"I already told you, visiting hours are arranged with the doctors."  
  
"We need some information." I said, stepping forward. Her eyes turned to me with a frown, still not looking impressed. "We need to see the information for who stayed in room 195 for the last few years."  
  
"I'm sorry, but that information is classified. You'll need a permit." She turned back to her computer, as if dismissing us with one movement. I noticed her hand brushing under the desk as she did so and frowned slightly, though I couldn't see if she'd hit some sort of button.  
  
"What kind of permit do you need? A search warrant is hardly warranted for this situation." Duo continued.  
  
The lady turned her disinterested eyes toward him. "All information on our patients is classified. Warrant or not, we do not give it out."  
  
"Even if it could involve a murder?" Duo raised an eyebrow at her, but more because of his own disbelief.  
  
"Bring me the corner's note and I might call my superiors. Otherwise, you need to leave."  
  
Duo blinked at her, looking completely lost. He glanced at me, flashing a helpless look. I returned my own small shrug and motioned for the door. He ignored me and turned back to speak with the woman again. Frowning at Duo, I grabbed his arm and pulled him for the door.  
  
"We'll come back later." I said lowly to him as I moved us both toward the door, keeping a firm grip on his arm. I could already see the cleaning staff in the room watching us with suspicious eyes. In the time that Duo had been talking to her, five more large men had entered the lobby in seemingly normal ways from different directions. She had to have pressed some sort of button because no hospital, no matter how much money it had, needed nearly ten sanitation workers in one room, especially not one that was already spotless.   
  
Duo made few protests as I moved him toward the door, apparently having already noticed the odd increase in occupancy of the lobby area. Both of us exited the hospital in silence and suspicion.  
  
**  
  
We arrived back at Duo's apartment without many words after that. The entire ride home in the taxi was mostly silent, leaving both of us to our own thoughts. As I sat there I went over the hospital in my mind, inch by inch. Mentally I retraced my steps into the main lobby and down the hall. It was a distinct memory that led me in that direction and I was positive beyond a doubt that room 195 had been mine for however long my stay had been. But my memory stopped there.  
  
I couldn't remember the doctors, and especially not the one who took care of me. I didn't remember any other members of the staff either. Oddly, it was like in my memory there had been no one at the hospital, but I knew that couldn't have been the case. A hospital with that much money and prestige didn't run on a skeleton staff at night. There was no reason for them to. So the only other possibility is that my memory still only reached back to the point where I'd woken up and stumbled out of the hospital, nothing more.  
  
And that left me at another dead end.  
  
I leaned back in the taxi seat and opened my eyes, watching out the window as we headed back to Duo's apartment. My life seemed to be full of dead ends lately, no matter what direction I turned in. It almost made one skeptical to the extreme and I couldn't help but wonder how long this pseudo job at Branch 2 would last. Part of me was very tempted to go back to a life where my past didn't matter and the large blank spot was only a minor annoyance to be dealt with when making things like fake Ids. But at the same time, as much as part of me wanted to go back, I knew I couldn't. That was the problem. Now that I'd allowed myself to get my hopes up I was stuck here, grasping at straws until I found something. So this was just a situation I would have to deal with.  
  
"Earth to Trowa, we're here."  
  
I frowned and nodded to Duo, climbing out of the stopped taxi onto the street. I watched him pay the driver and then we headed up to his floor, in silence. I left my own thoughts behind and concentrated on Duo's silence. He was never silent.  
  
In the short time that I'd known him, I knew he wasn't one to be silent, even when there was nothing to talk about. And the fact that there was plenty to talk about right now only confirmed my suspicions that something was wrong. He walked ahead of me without any sign of saying a single word. I wondered if he'd seen something at the hospital that had disturbed him, but that didn't seem right because I hadn't seen any other sign of him noticing something out of the ordinary. And he wasn't the type to hold in information until we reached his apartment.   
  
Added to that was the fact that he did look a little pale.  
  
I frowned and waited for him to open the door, following him into the apartment. I would have said something, but someone else beat me to the punch.  
  
"Hey dad!" Mari waved from her seat on the kitchen counter, where she was eating a egg muffin sandwich while using a device that looked like a cell phone. But it certainly wasn't a cell phone, because she kept her eyes on the screen and was using her thumb to quickly type in keys, leading me to believe it was some sort of hand held computer of her own creation. "How'd the hospital trip go?"  
  
"Incredibly effective," Duo muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "We got kicked out by a toilet cleaner that could have squished Chang with his pinky." Duo walked over and dropped down onto the couch, leaning back and putting his arm over his face. "And the place reeked."  
  
Mari chuckled and her eyes turned to me as I shut the front door. "You find anything?"  
  
I shook my head. "Only that I stayed in room 195. But I didn't recognize anything else."  
  
She frowned and entered a few things into her hand-held computer, before closing it with a quick snap and jumping down off the counter. "I'll take another look and see what I can find, but I suspect that this hospital keeps everything on hardcopy, which just sucks." She slipped the computer in her pocket. "Chang and I didn't find anything else out for you, unfortunately. Be careful or I may start referring to you as the human rubix cube."  
  
"Yeah, but at least with a rubix cube you have an idea of what the solution is." Duo commented from over on the couch.  
  
"Should I start guessing as to who Trowa really is?"   
  
I couldn't help but smirk a little as I listened to them bicker back and forth. In spite of the fact that Mari called Duo father, the two of them almost seemed like siblings living on their own. He wasn't too much older then her so that scenario probably worked better then one of parenting. I wondered if they really realized it through their own actions.  
  
"Get off the couch you lazy bum! Just because you're at home doesn't mean you're off work." Marimeia stomped over to the couch with her hands on her waist, frowning down at Duo. Duo only spared her a small glance before he stuck his tongue out at her, childishly.  
  
"Dad, you ok?"  
  
I blinked and looked over at them, surprised by Mari's sudden change of tone. In a single moment her voice had dropped to being a bit quieter and she sounded concerned. Her hands weren't on her waist anymore and she was leaning forward, closer to Duo as if trying to get a better look at him, despite the fact that he was covering his face.  
  
Duo sat up and batted her away with one arm, heading toward the kitchen and walking right past me. "Yeah, yeah, just fine. It's been a long day." He flashed her a smile, one that I could tell was almost obviously fake. But he seemed to fool Mari, because she watched him hesitantly.  
  
"If you're sure…. I guess." She frowned, but didn't say much else as she grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. "I'm gonna head back, I just came to get some food. I'll see you two later."  
  
Duo spared her a wave from the kitchen as he went about the cleaning the dishes from her meal, not looking up at all as she stepped out. I was left standing there in the kitchen area confused. I wasn't sure exactly how to react, so I found myself just standing there as Duo moved around and cleaned the dishes. He seemed overly distracted by something, his movements slow and jerky. His eyes were even glazed a bit as he cleaned the dishes.  
  
I didn't ask him anything though, figuring it wasn't my place. For the life of me I couldn't think of what could have caused such a dramatic change in him, but I made no move to comment on it. I just stood there, watching him wash the dishes with a pair of yellow rubber gloves which slid on over the ones he'd already been wearing. To say this struck me as strange would be an understatement, but once again it wasn't my place to say anything; instead I just gave a small shrug and headed over to the large chair by the couch. Closing my eyes I slid into the soft cushion and let my mind rest, once again mentally walking through the hospital.  
  
I traced my memory back, trying to remember as best I could what had happened at the hospital after I'd woken up. I went through everything in painstaking detail, so much to the point that I was forcing myself into gaining a headache which began to slowly grow in my head. Still I went over everything, not stopping to miss a single detail if it was within my power to grasp. I made a note of all the hospital orderlies I'd passed and even found that the hazy image of the secretary that I remembered was, without a doubt, the same one who had been there earlier today. And now that I thought about it, I did remember the janitors being overly built. How strange…  
  
A crash sounded behind me, breaking me out of my thoughts. I jumped out of the chair and whirled around, but found no one behind me at all. Where had Duo gone?   
  
Forgetting my mental retracing I stepped back over to the kitchen, not surprised to find a dish shattered on the floor in small wet shards. What did surprise me was Duo's condition.  
  
He lay on the floor, his body shaking uncontrollably. His hands were balled up in tight fists, the gloves straining at the seams, while his body curled into a fetal position, his skin scrapping across a few pieces of broken plates and cutting his skin. His entire body shook, his lips quivering as he shuttered with quick breaths, almost like he was hyper-ventilating.  
  
For the moment all I could do was stare. I didn't know what to do, and my mind just froze on me as I stood there and watched him shake on the floor. I'd never seen anyone get hit with such an attack before. His skin seemed paler by the second and the shaking increased. I knew I should move him away from the pieces of broken plates on the floor, but for the moment I honestly couldn't make myself move. I just stood there for what seemed like an eternity, my mind buzzing and my body not responding as he lay on the floor, shaking and gasping for air.   
  
After a few moments his body began to spasm more, jerking about so much that he started to hit the cupboards. The sound of one of the cupboard doors hitting its frame harshly broke me out of my strange trance and I moved quickly to the phone. One step toward the phone and I realized I had no idea who to call, and calling the normal hospital seemed wrong in so many ways. I turned my steps back to Duo and did the only thing I could think of. I picked him up.  
  
It was quite a struggle to pull him into my arms, especially since at a single touch he seemed to jerk about more, actually crying out in pain now. His entire body shook and trembled as I moved quickly to the bed, where I dropped him down on it. Pulling out his sheets from the chest, I threw them over him and tucked them into the sides of the mattress, securely locking him under the covers. I placed a pillow under his head and grabbed a few others from the couch to tuck on either side of his body under the blankets to try and limit his movement. Once I was sure he wouldn't jerk himself out of the bed and onto the floor I moved quickly to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth, wetting it down with cool water.   
  
I sat next to him on the bed and placed the washcloth on his forehead, hoping the coolness would help calm him down. Beyond that, though, there was nothing else I could think of doing for him. Leaving wasn't an option at all, so there was no way I could go and get help from Mari or anyone else at Branch 2. So I just sat on the edge of the bed, replacing the cool cloth whenever his movements caused it to slide off his forehead. I constantly re-tucked in the blankets around him, keeping them tight to restrict his movements and make sure he couldn't hurt himself.   
  
What had happened to him? I hadn't seen him interact with anyone at the hospital aside from the secretary, but then I'd been worried about my own memories at the time. Still, I knew Duo wasn't stupid, and he didn't seem like the type of person to let someone give him some kind of drug or injection that could cause such a reaction. I doubted that he'd been allergic to something in the hospital because of how severe his reaction was. So what did that leave then? It left me with a large question mark and no answers until he broke out of whatever attack was holding him at the moment.  
  
Still, I did feel responsible, because I knew the hospital had to have something to do with it, and I was the reason that we'd been at the hospital.  
  
So I made a promise to myself to stay with him all night, until the attack passed.  
  
And that's exactly what I did. 


	8. Chapter 7

Note to all:  
  
I've decided to take the same route with this fic as I am with my YYH one. I will be posting 'scenes' instead of chapters from now on. This means the parts I post will be smaller, but it hopefully means that I will be able to write more and faster, because that seems to be the only way to get my muses to cooperate lately. This will not effect the plot, it just really means shorter parts. It does mean though that I'm probably gonna stop getting a beta to read my stuff. Spelling and such should still be fine, but that's the small warning for you. Hope you enjoy the next part and hopefully I'll be posting more, more often now.  
  
*huggles*  
  
----Snow Tigra  
  
Touched and Bound  
  
Chapter 7  
  
The night passed by rather quickly, with Duo's attack dying down to something that clearly resembled a simple nightmare. For most of the night he lay there peacefully, his breathing a bit labored but otherwise normal. Every now and then his body would jerk and he'd get another smaller attack, but it was rare if it lasted more then a minute.   
  
The sun began to rise outside and I found myself relieved that his attack was over. Part of me wished that Mari had actually come home that night, but knowing her she was most likely still at her computers, completely oblivious to what time it was. I knew she was one of those people who could sit down and just lose themselves, the same way I could sit in a room and lose myself in the small amount of time it took me to memorize every detail around me. So she wouldn't be home for a long time, and I was stuck caring for someone that I knew next to nothing about, medically. I had no idea if putting him in the bed with a cool cloth over his forehead was a good thing, or if it would kill him. But so far, it seemed to be doing more good then harm.  
  
I heard a soft moaning above me and realized that Duo must be waking up. I moved and stretched a bit, before standing up and turning to him. I'd spent most of the night on the floor, leaning against the side of his bed, so that if I dozed off the movement of the bed from his attacks would wake me. Now he was lying partially awake in bed, hazily blinking open his eyes and moaning softly as he seemed to get his bearings. After a moment his eyes focused and turned my way, then he gave me a look of confusion and surprise.  
  
"What time is it?" He murmured, sitting up. He caught the wet cloth from his forehead in his hand and blinked at it for a moment, as if it were strange that he was holding something in his bare hand.  
  
"Just after five in the morning." I sat back down on the edge of the bed and took the cloth from him, careful not to touch his skin as I did. Walking over to the bathroom I dropped it in the hamper, then crossed back to where he was now sitting up in the bed. He watched me the entire time, a strange look of something that could almost be called awe on his face. I wasn't sure why he was staring at me that way, after all what had I done? Yes, I'd watched over him for the night, but that was normal right? Did he honestly expect me not to care about someone having such a severe seizure?  
  
"You stayed with me all night?" He asked softly, echoing a string of my thoughts.  
  
I responded with a nod and walked over to the kitchen, filling a glass of water for him. I bought it over and held it out for him to take. "Your gloves are on the bedside table."  
  
He blinked at me, then smiled a bit. Turning he took the gloves and slid them back on, then took the glass from me and gratefully emptied it. When he finished he didn't look up, but just sat there looking at the empty glass in his hands. "I suppose… I owe you an explanation, don't I?"  
  
I shrugged. "No, it's your life. But it might help so I know what to do next time it happens."  
  
Duo nodded slowly and began to turn the cup in his hands, rotating it slowly. "I've never really told anyone before. Mari knows, well… because she's experienced it. But… yeah." He took a deep breath and stopped turning the glass, looking up at me. I took that as a signal and sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently.  
  
"I… see things." He started, his voice slow, as he tried to find the right words. I waited patiently for him to go on and offer more of an explanation. As I listened I automatically watched his reactions to his own words. He seemed tense, nervous about telling other people. I could tell he'd been telling the truth: this wasn't something he told everyone around him, and part of me wondered how much the people at Branch 2 knew.  
  
"I see… when I touch things, I can see what they've seen. I'm not exactly sure how to describe it, but I know that people in the more paranormal circles would call me a 'touch-know'. If I touch something with my bare skin I can see what it's seen. And the longer I touch something… the more I can see." He paused and just watched me, apparently gauging my reaction.  
  
Slowly, in my mind, things started to fall back into place. I distinctly remembered the second time I'd seen Duo, how he'd sat at the table which Middi had always sat at. How he'd been touching the table without his gloves on when I'd caught him, and he'd given me this almost frightened look. He hadn't wanted me to see his powers, that's why I'd surprised him. I wasn't supposed to have noticed.   
  
I glanced over at his gloves, realizing that his powers perfectly explained everything about his weird behaviors. Why he always wore gloves, and didn't let anyone touch those gloves, at least not on the inside. The bed sheets in the chest made sense, and so did his strange reactions to people. It all seemed to snap together, fixing the puzzle so that the picture finally came into full view. It seemed so strange that all I'd been missing to the puzzle was a simple piece like this.  
  
"It happens with everything you touch?" I asked quietly.  
  
Duo nodded once more. "Every single thing. The gloves aren't so bad, because they mostly hold my own memories, so I don't mind the constant images from them, it's like memories running in the back of my mind. But everything else…" He stopped and shuddered a bit. "I wear the gloves so I don't have to see it. I hate seeing it."  
  
"And the attack?"  
  
Duo sighed softly. "I hate seeing it, so I use the gloves to block it. But sometimes it gets out of hand… I think there was too much going on in the hospital. I didn't even think about it, but that hospital was a high energy place. You know, a lot of people pass through there every day. That's a lot of images… and apparently too many for my gloves to block out. So it all hit me at once." He looked up at me and offered a nervous smile. "So I guess I looked pretty pale when we got out of there, didn't I? I generally start to get pale and slow just before it hits. Least… that's what Mari says."  
  
I frowned. "But that meant she noticed before she left, and that she consciously left you with me." My frown deepened at this thought. Mari had willingly left me with Duo when she knew that he was probably going to have an attack. And yet she hadn't seemed to hesitate much. Had I missed some kind of silent communication between the two of them? Had this been planned?   
  
Duo only nodded, confirming my suspicions. I frowned at him and stood up, walking over to the kitchen and double checking in the light now to make sure I'd gotten all the shards from the plate. Behind me Duo remained silent as he made his way out of bed. I could hear him standing up and moving about to get new clothes for the day. A second later the shower turned on and I knew he was in the bathroom. Part of me wondered how bad his power was, and if he saw the images from the water as it washed over him. Or when his feet touched the shower floor… how did someone live like that? How could one live when every time they touched anything it flooded their head with images and visions.  
  
I focused on finishing washing and putting away what dishes were left, as I listened to the shower turn off in the bathroom. I was emptying the sink and wiping it clean when he walked up to the counter, dressed, with his hair rebraided.   
  
"Does it bother you that much?" Duo asked me quietly.  
  
"What?" I asked, putting the towels away. I noticed a second later that I was avoiding eye contact of every kind and I wondered if he noticed.   
  
He leaned against the edge of the counter and crossed his arms, watching me. He'd noticed. "Does it bother you that much that Mari and I trust you?"  
  
I stopped and turned to look at him, my eyes meeting his. "Yes. It does." I said shortly and plainly. I changed then, for a moment, because I felt any sort of emotion or feeling disappear from my face. I know my eyes went dead as I looked at him. "You don't know me. You don't know who I am, or what I am. And yet you trust me."  
  
I watched him shrug it off with a small grin. "Then I guess I'm a fool. But my instincts tell me I can trust you, and they've never failed me before."  
  
Sadly I couldn't argue with that. I'd lived the last year or so simply on my instincts and I knew they were usually right. So I couldn't argue with him, no matter how much I wanted to. I didn't answer him or make any comment, I simply walked over to where my own clothes were and headed for the shower, not saying another word. I know he watched my steps and my movements, but I had no idea what he was thinking about. Sometimes I just couldn't figure Duo out. Most of the time, in fact.  
  
I stripped and let the water rush over me, closing my eyes and forcing myself to relax. I let my mind wander as I stood there, not even bothering to touch the soap or the shampoo. This shower was simply for relaxation and thought… and to get away from that curious look in Duo's eyes, but then I didn't like admitting that to myself.  
  
My mind, given free reign to wander to whatever thoughts it wanted, wandered back to Duo. I remembered the first time he'd walked into my former place of employment and his manner at the time. He always had that grin on his face, a finely crafted mask to hide whoever he really was deep down inside. Standing in the shower, an odd thought struck me. I knew more about myself then I knew about Duo.   
  
True, he'd just shared a major secret with me about him and his life, but most of him was still a mystery. A mystery hidden behind a mask that was carefully crafted to make you think he was willing to answer any question, thus there was no need to ask. I knew he worked at Branch 2, but I wasn't even going to start trying to figure out how much of Branch 2 was still in the dark, kept from me. But Duo… I didn't even know his relationship or connection to Marimeia aside from the fact that she called him 'dad'.  
  
I knew next to nothing about Duo, and he didn't know about me either. Still, in order to learn about me, all he would have to do is touch my arm-  
  
I stopped as my eyes snapped open. Water hit my eyes and I blindly groped for the turndial and shut off the water. I reached past the shower curtain for a towel and wiped my face dry, blinking my eyes until they got over the shock from the hot water. All Duo would have to do is touch me to figure out what my past was. Why hadn't I thought of this right away? Had he thought of it? Why hadn't he mentioned it?  
  
Would it work?  
  
I quickly dried off and slipped on my clothes, not even bothering to do anything to my hair other than run the towel over it a few times so it didn't drip water. A quick glance around the bathroom to make sure it was clean and I stepped out, to find Duo straightening his sheets and tucking them away in the chest at the end of his bed, which filled the air with a slight scent of cedar. Part of me wondered how often he opened that chest, and it must not have been often for that scent to be there.  
  
He finished putting away his sheets and looked up at me, and he must have seen something in my face because he gave me a questioning look. I stepped up to him.  
  
"Your.. power… how far back can it see?"  
  
Duo frowned at me and crossed his arms. "It depends on how long I touch the object. The longer I touch it the farther I can see back. But the images become faded the farther back you go… so it really depends and I usually don't know until I try."  
  
I took a deep breath, realizing exactly what I was asking him. Before me stood the possible answer to my questions about this blank spot in my mind. The whole idea that he could so easily throw away that cover and reveal what I'd been missing this whole year was almost too much to consider. And I was letting my hopes up again, which wasn't a good sign.  
  
"You could figure out me, then, couldn't you? All you'd have to do is touch me."  
  
Duo's eyes widened and he took a step back, almost defensively. "Now wait one second. I… it's…" He stopped and frowned, but it was more of a worried frown then a disapproving one. "I haven't touched a human in a long time, and it's different then touching an inanimate object. The images are more vivid and… well…" He looked down and away from me, suddenly seeming like a young child. A young child who was scared. "And I don't like it," he finished quietly.  
  
So that was it. He had thought of it before, how could he not have. But the reason he hadn't suggested it or done it was because he was still uncomfortable with his talent. And now that I thought about it, from what he described I'm sure I would have been hesitant as well. But still… No, once again I had raised my hopes for nothing.   
  
"Trowa, I-"  
  
He stopped as there was a knock on his door. Duo flashed me a helpless look then turned away and left to answer the door. And that, was that. Subject done and closed.   
  
I couldn't keep the frown from my face as I went to put my things away near the couch. I should have known better. I should have known not to get my hopes up. A couple days ago I wouldn't have done such a foolish thing as hope like this, and yet I'd done it so many times in the last few days that I was loosing count. I suspected the change in my way of thinking and acting was directly from living with Duo. He seemed to have an aura around him of ease and light-heartedness. I knew that was all a part of the mask he projected, but it was still contagious and it had apparently infected me as well.  
  
As I placed my old clothes away with the others Duo had lent me, I could hear him at the door. I stopped when I heard the other voice there, immediately recognizing it even though both of them were now standing in the hallway out of sight. I paused in my cleaning motion and listened, not even really considering it to be eaves-dropping. They were within ear shot. If they cared, then they would have made sure I couldn't hear.  
  
"… the files?"  
  
"No, not yet." Duo gave a nervous chuckle. "I left them in Mari's workshop and mostly just got to look at it today."  
  
"Sounds like you. Well, here are the others that go with it, from her. She said you would need them." Wufei paused for a moment and I found myself slowly walking closer to the door, to hear them better and also because I found myself to be curious, and I wanted to see what exactly they were talking about.  
  
"How are you doing?" Wufei asked, this time he spoke in a quieter voice, more caring and not to business like. I stopped near the door and I could see them in the hallway now. Neither of them were facing me, the angle being just right so I could watch them and not get spotted. I froze in my spot and watched, and listened. A part of me in the back of my mind rationalized that I was doing this because if I wanted any answers about Branch 2 I would have to get them for myself. Least, that what I told myself. In all honestly, the real reason I was listening eluded me completely.  
  
Duo frowned at him and glanced down. "Mari told you, didn't she. She did notice then."  
  
Wufei only nodded in response and I found myself quite surprised to see him reach up and place his hands on Duo's shoulders. I was even more surprised when Duo didn't step back away from him. After learning about Duo's power I would have thought he would shy away from physical contact me. But apparently Wufei was the exception. I found myself frowning even more at that idea, still not sure exactly why.  
  
"Little brat," Duo murmured with a forced chuckle.   
  
"Yes, she is that. She's as stubborn as her adoptive father."  
  
Duo's head tilted up at Wufei and I watched in surprise as Wufei leaned in closer, almost to kiss Duo. At the last second Duo quickly stepped back, shaking his head and Wufei didn't follow the action any further. I on the other hand, found myself reacting without thinking. I managed to stop myself from moving, but only after I'd found that I'd advanced on the door more then a few feet and was nearly in their sight now. I quickly turned around and retreated back to the couch and sat down quietly.  
  
I don't lose control like that. I never have. So why now? Why did I suddenly move forward when I saw the cop-contact of Branch 2 lean down to kiss Duo? Something about it bugged me, but that was absolutely ridiculous. Why in the world should it bug me if the two were going out or kissing? It was their choice to do as they pleased. So why had it made such a difference to me that I'd jumped forward so quickly?  
  
"Trowa."  
  
I blinked and turned, noticing that Duo was now standing in the room facing me, with Wufei standing just behind his shoulder. Neither of them seemed to have noticed my mess-up and that was perfectly fine by me. I completely turned toward them and regarded Duo with a questioning look, indicating he could continue now that he had my attention.  
  
He responded with a somewhat apologetic look. "I completely forgot I had a … Uhh… that I had to get together to discuss some things with Officer Chang today. But I'm under strict orders to not leave you alone, thanks to Quatre. So… You mind heading over to Branch 2 and staying with Mari for a bit? She might have some new information on the hospital… or other things."  
  
I nodded, and stood up. He was overly agitated about asking me to go stay with Mari for a while. And from the way Wufei had frowned at Duo's choice of words for their meeting, my mind only had to put two and two together to realize what was really going on. Duo had a date.  
  
Why did that word make my stomach clench up?  
  
"No problem. They'll let me in at the front door right?"  
  
Duo nodded. "The little blond guard puppy knows who you are now. He'll be good." Duo gave a wink at me and snickered, obviously not so high-strung now that I wasn't asking any questions about him and Wufei. "I'll call Mari and tell her you're coming. Thanks." He added the last word as an after thought and I mostly shrugged it off heading out the apartment door.  
  
Yet, once again I found myself pausing as soon as I was out of their sight. I just stood in the hallway, listening to them once again, unable to make myself walk away. A part of me wanted to hear what they were going to say as soon as I was gone.   
  
"Fei… you can't. Ok? It doesn't work like that. You just can't."  
  
I frowned and turned back around, glancing back into the apartment. Once again Wufei was leaning close to Duo, looking ready to kiss him. But the Chinese officer got the hint this time and stepped back. He stood there for a moment, then reached down and took Duo's gloved hand in his, kissing his palm gently. From my angle I could just barely make out the smile that grew across Duo's face.  
  
"I understand about your… talent. I understand it, Duo. But it shouldn't keep you from having a social life. You can't lock yourself in this apartment and hide yourself behind paperwork and an adoptive daughter for the rest of your life."  
  
Duo's small smile wilted and quickly disappeared as he pulled his hand away and turned away from Wufei, heading for the kitchen. "Oh? How much of a social life can I really have when I can't touch people, Fei? That's a pretty sucky deal, if you ask me."  
  
Wufei responded by walking up behind Duo and sliding his hands down Duo's shoulders to lightly embrace him. "As much of a social life as you'll let me offer." He said softly. Once again he kissed Duo, but this time he kissed his braid, just lightly, almost like you would expect to see a mother kiss their child. But for Duo, I had a feeling that gesture meant a lot more, because he leaned back in Wufei's arms and seemed to relax there, letting Wufei hold him.  
  
I felt my stomach clench up again and my eyes narrowed, watching the both of them stand in the kitchen. The whole situation bothered me and I found myself stepping forward again, just barely realizing it.  
  
But this time I did the only sane thing I could think of.  
  
I turned away from them and quickly moved down the hall, out the door and walked all the way to Branch 2, never looking back.  
  
** 


	9. Chapter 8

Finally we learn 'Trowa's' real name..... *hides  
  
before everyone can hurt her for making this even more  
  
confusing*  
  
Hehehe, have you spotted Heero yet?  
  
----Snow  
  
Touched and Bound  
  
Chapter 8  
  
About an hour later I found myself sitting in the basement at Branch 2, watching the back of Mari's head as she lost herself at one of her computer screens. She's been quiet ever since I'd arrived and I was left to fend for myself and find something to do to keep busy. There were plenty of computers in the room that seemed to be idling or were capable of being used by me while she had them running whatever she wanted, but I never asked because I wasn't interested. Computers were useful if one knew how to use them in the right ways. Me? I knew the basics, it was one of the things I remembered like being able to eat with a fork and spoon and speak. Apparently, before I'd lost my memory, I'd known at least a little about computers to be able to turn them on and occupy myself on the internet, but at the moment I wasn't interested. I really didn't see the point in aimlessly 'surfing' around to waste time.  
  
I hate to waste time.  
  
Left without much to do I simply contented myself to sitting back in my chair and contemplating my current situation, running over all the facts over and over again to see if there were any angles we'd missed, or any information from the hospital that I hadn't noticed the first 20 or so times I'd gone over my thoughts.  
  
However, my mind didn't seem to want to cooperate with me because it kept switching back to one scene. I kept seeing Duo and Wufei standing in Duo's kitchen. I kept seeing Wufei's arms slide around Duo's shoulders and pull him into a light embrace that obviously meant more to both of them then any other person who happened to be watching them. I'd tried to push the vision out of my mind, over and over, but it kept coming back, refusing to leave me alone. And each time I saw it, I felt that tight feeling in my stomach clench a little more. Something about Duo being in his arms… something about it made me feel angry.   
  
But that was an understatement.  
  
If I'd been a cat, my hair would be on end and I would have had my back arched to the extreme, fangs barred and hissing for all I was worth. I couldn't understand it, but the very idea of Wufei anywhere close to Duo made all my alarms go off and I wanted nothing more then to walk back to the apartment and pull the two of them apart, demanding to know exactly what the hell that Chinese cop thought he was doing. But I didn't, because I wasn't stupid. I knew what this was. It wasn't a matter of being worried or of distrust. But rather it was a matter of one simple, yet horribly complicated emotion.  
  
I was jealous.  
  
One single word and I was forced to completely reevaluate my situation. There was absolutely no reason for me to be jealous, what's more it shouldn't even matter to me that Wufei and Duo had any relationship at all. It was their lives, not mine and it wasn't my place to pry or approve or disapprove. And yet I still found myself sitting in Mari's basement computer playground, seething. Somewhere along the line of meeting Duo I'd developed an attachment to him, an attachment that had even managed to escape me. That is, until now.  
  
It was a silly thing. I know why the attachment appeared; it was simple really. Duo was the first person I'd met since waking up in that hospital and sneaking out, who had given a damn about me in anyway, and I still wasn't sure why. Not a single person before him had really cared about me or acknowledged me as more then another face in the crowd. I hadn't complained, because I wanted to be another face in the crowd. I didn't want to be noticed, because I honestly didn't know what would happen if someone did notice me. I was better off not being noticed and keeping the ability to simply slip away as soon as I wanted. It was safer that way. No one got attached to me and I didn't get attached to anyone else.  
  
Except Duo.  
  
I clenched my fists slightly at that thought, realizing that I was now giving a deathglare to the innocent monitor in front of me. How the hell had I managed to attach myself to Duo? Was that why it bugged me so much that he trusted me? Was that why he was constantly able to confuse me and get under my skin, intrigue me? Or was I blowing this massively out of proportion because it wasn't something I'd ever dealt with before?   
  
This was getting me no where, so I silenced my thoughts, harshly. I stood out of the chair, quick enough to make more then a few splashes in the water that surrounded my feet, but I didn't care. Standing up I shoved my hands into my pocket and crossed the room, banishing such thoughts from my mind. Behind me I knew Mari was still on her computer, because she didn't move at all, not showing any sign of noticing my movement. I moved over to where she was, intent on speaking with her, intent on using her to help get these absurd thoughts out of my mind.  
  
"How was father when you left?"  
  
Her voice caught me completely off guard. She managed to cut me off even before I'd completely opened my mouth. I paused in mid-step, then rested my foot on the ground, recovering from my slight shock. She hadn't moved at all and her eyes were still glued to a screen, where text scrolled down at a speed that could have easily made a normal person dizzy. I half wondered how long she'd held herself from asking me about Duo's condition.  
  
"He's doing better, I think. The attack stopped completely before I left, if that's what you mean."  
  
A slight nod was my only indication that she'd heard, because otherwise she didn't respond. I tried to contain my curiosity, but decided it was better to ask. Engaging in a conversation with Mari to try and get information was a much better way to pass the time then to let my own thoughts taunt me.  
  
"You knew he was going to have an attack." I pressed, testing the waters to see how much further she would let me wade in. She and Duo seemed to trust me, and though I was wary to take advantage of that trust, now seemed like a good time to test how much they were willing to trust me with. Duo wouldn't tell me why he trusted me so much, or at least wouldn't give me a concrete answer. Perhaps I could coax some type of explanation out of Mari.  
  
"I've only lived with him for a couple of years now, but he should know better than to try and hide his attacks from me. I know he gets them every few months. I've been trying to look for a pattern, but nothing's so much as given me an inkling as to exactly why it happens, and he won't tell me. I've seen him go through more then a handful of them, and that idiot still keeps pretending they don't happen. The minute they stop it's a non-subject and to him they don't exist."   
  
Mari sighed and sat back in her chair, her arms crossing as she closed her eyes and rubbed them a bit. Then she spun the chair partially around and looked right at me, a soft smirk tugging at the edge of her lips. "And no, he's not my real father."  
  
The change of subject didn't escape me, but I didn't bring it up either. I'd hit a sensitive spot by asking about Duo's attacks and obviously had unearthed tension between the two of them which had been building for a long time. It also wouldn't help the matter if I explained to her that Duo had already told me about the attacks, why they happened, and other such details. I wasn't going to fuel flames that had started long before I was around, at least not if they didn't serve any real purpose to me at the moment. So I let the subject change slip, ignoring it and picking up the new one she'd handed to me. It seemed to be something she was willing to talk about, or she wouldn't have brought it up. Mari wasn't the type to taunt people with information.  
  
"Then why do you usually call him father?"  
  
Mari smiled a bit, her eyes traveling up to the ceiling and un-focusing as she entertained what could only have been a few memories. "I was really close to my birth father, inseparable. Daddy's little girl… you know the type. So I guess, when Duo became my legal guardian, it seemed only right to call him father." Her voice grew softer and she closed her eyes. "After all, he was the one who took care of me after I saw their murder."  
  
I found myself leaning back against a computer desk, listening to her story closely. I didn't even need to voice my questions, because she answered them before I got a chance to form them in my head. I didn't want to think how many times she'd had to repeat the same story to police and cops and investigators.   
  
She continued with open eyes, focusing on the computer screen intently. But then, I wouldn't want to pay any attention to the thoughts in my head either if it was something as gruesome as she was indicating.  
  
"You see, my parents had a lot of money, from some business that my dad owned down town. I don't know the name and I know it's gone now, it pretty much died with him. But it was big enough at the time to put us in the upper classes. Someone must not have liked this, or maybe it was just a simple case of being in the wrong house in the wrong neighborhood at the wrong night. Either way…  
  
"I woke up to muffled sounds from their room. At the time I thought my mother or father was having a nightmare, or something. So I got out of bed and went to their room. It was a nightmare. I found them lying in the bed, the water leaking out onto the floor around them, a lot darker then it should have been if it were just plain water. I saw the guy too, I saw the one who'd killed them, leaving the mess splattered around the room. I saw his long white coat, covered with spots of blood…"  
  
She winced a bit at the memory. "I ran to my room. He must have seen me too, but I didn't stick around the find out. I just ran to my room and locked the door, then locked myself in my closet. The police and Branch 2 found me in the attic, cowered in the corner near some old boxes. Duo was the one who talked me out of the attic. So… Quatre thought it would be best for me to live with him, since we already had that connection and I didn't have any family who could be contacted."  
  
"And because you're still a possible target," I commented softly.   
  
Mari nodded, looking back at me. "And Quatre hired me because of my love for computers and my skill with them. I've always loved working with machines; my … real dad taught me how." She opened her mouth to say more, but a sound from her computer – reminiscent of a tiger growling – stopped her. It was like a switch had been flipped, because she spun back around in her chair as if nothing had been exchanged or said. And her next words were spoken like we were still engaged in a pleasant conversation about the weather or something just as mundane.   
  
"Speaking of which," she said with a grin. I stepped up behind her and peered at the screen since she didn't seem intent on telling me more until I was looking at the screen with her. So I looked over her shoulder, but it still didn't make much sense to me.  
  
What lay before me on the glowing screen was a list, that much I could tell. Names scrolled down, labeled neatly and spelled correctly in columns lined up with numbers and another set of five or six names that were repeated often. A catalog of names, but that's all I knew. None of them looked familiar in either column. In fact, I had a feeling names would have looked more familiar coming from a phone book.  
  
"Shame on them for leaving the back door open," she chided, a mischievous smirk growing across her face. "Now lets see, father said it was room 197…"  
  
Mari scrolled down quickly on the page, aiming for that number. It soon occurred to me exactly what this page was. Somehow Mari had managed to tap into the computers at the hospital and access their patient listings from her own computer. It occurred to me that this meant all she would need would be a date and room number and she would have…  
  
My name.  
  
"Bingo." Mari said softly as she stopped scrolling down. I watched as she highlighted a name with her mouse, making it easy for me to see. Then she grinned and spun around in her chair, reaching a hand toward me.  
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you. Riku Shirou."  
  
**  
  
The trip up to Quatre's office had to be the most anti-climactic elevator ride I'd ever taken. Mari and I stood in silence and my mind was abuzz with the information I'd just learned. Not that it was much, but a name seemed like a huge deal of information. Or at least, it should have been.  
  
In reality the name didn't sound familiar at all. All I knew was that it sounded Japanese, which fit with how I looked. So it fit my nationality, but about nothing else. I didn't remember what my name was, and a person could have called me anything and it probably still would have caused the confused expression that rose on my face when Mari had said that. It was just a name, and I discovered that it held no more significance then any other word in any other language to me. Wasn't a name supposed to mean something?  
  
After finding my supposed name, Mari had turned off the screen to her computer and beckoned me to go with her to Quatre's office. She'd explained that she may have all the computers and knowledge, but Quatre's office had a separate computer with a large complement of names and background histories to those names. I had no doubt that she could have easily hacked into it from where she was, but it was a matter of politeness. One just doesn't hack into their boss's computer if one wants to keep their job.  
  
So we rode up in the elevator, heading for the blue hallway and his office. I followed her to his door, remaining silent the whole time, watching everything around me. But mostly I found that I was impatient. I wanted to know who this 'Riku Shirou' was. And I wanted to know if he was me.  
  
I found myself sitting in a chair in Quatre's office, as Mari calmly explained to him what all she had found. The back door into the hospital records along with the information I'd gathered at the hospital and how that had all led us to this one name. The blond listened carefully, nodding every now and then at certain bits of information. When Mari had finished he nodded once more and moved to his lap top which was sitting on his desk. A few quick keystrokes, that no doubt included a password, and he turned the computer to us so we could look at the screen.  
  
And to my surprise I found I was staring at myself.  
  
The file looked to be government in existence, some sort of directory of names, records and histories complete with pictures. And right on the screen was a dossier of Riku Shirou with my face on it.  
  
I recognized the deep blue eyes, with a slightly Asian tilt that was only noticeable to one who looked close enough. I recognized the dark brown hair that was almost the color of dark chocolate. It was like looking in the mirror in the morning, so much to the point that this computer picture echoed the feeling I always got when I looked in the mirror. I knew I was looking at a picture of myself, but it felt like I was looking at someone completely different.  
  
"Well, it certainly looks like you." Mari commented beside me, as if that ended everything.  
  
Quatre, on the other hand, didn't seem to think that was the end of everything. "Yes, it certainly does." He frowned a bit and turned the computer back, scrolling down the screen without letting us see the information. Behind us the door to his office opened and I heard another person step in. The click of heels on boots along with the way Quatre glanced up and the disapproving look on his face told me that Dorothy now stood behind us. But I still turned to look at her from my chair, only to find her dressed in fencing gear… and a sword flying right at me.  
  
"Dorothy!"   
  
Quatre's voice rang out in the room, but it was too late because the sword was already flying through the air and I was already moving. In a moments time I managed to twist my body around and face her, moving out of the way of the sword and catching it by the hilt as it flew past me. My body reacted on instinct and I was out of the chair, dropping into a fencing stance, bringing the sword in front of me and readying myself for another attack or defensive move. I was on the floor and ready to fight back before I even knew what I was doing, the sword clutched in my hands.  
  
I didn't have to look around to know that everyone was staring at me.  
  
"Impressive," Dorothy said quietly from her place at the door. She clapped her hands together softly. "You've done that before."  
  
I blinked and faltered, forcing myself to relax and stand up straight, letting the sword drop to my side. "I just reacted…"  
  
"Nonsense. I know talent when I see it, and that was true talent-"  
  
"Regardless!" Quatre hit the desk, making Mari jump and Dorothy's head jerked up as she looked at him, her eyes narrowing. "Regardless of skill or not, that was unacceptable! You, especially you Dorothy, should know better."  
  
Dorothy simply shrugged and held her hand out to me, silently asking for the sword back. "I'd like to fight you."  
  
"No," Quatre bit out harshly. But by now both of us were ignoring him.  
  
"I've never-" I stopped and corrected myself. "I don't remember ever learning how to use a sword."  
  
"Well, you obviously know how to use one, or I would have sliced off your ear. You're on a search for your past and who you are. Well, I have a feeling that discovering what you can and can't do will be infinitely more fulfilling then any picture and name typed on a computer screen."  
  
She had a point at that. The moments when I found my body reacting without thought, were the ones when I felt the most at ease with myself. No matter what the situation, using the skills I knew I had, even if I didn't know why I had them, always put me at ease. Maybe that was why I memorized the faces of the customers when they came into the shop when I worked there. It was something I could do flawlessly and I'd been using it as a kind of security blanket ever since I'd woken up in the hospital. I didn't know why I reacted the way I did, I only knew that I did react, and that brought an amazing amount of comfort when I was left confused about everything else.   
  
I handed the sword back to her and nodded. "I accept."  
  
"I forbid it." Quatre said behind us, now standing up behind his desk and glaring like death himself at Dorothy. The blond woman only regarded him with an amused expression.  
  
"Afraid I'll hurt him, little brother?"  
  
I blinked and glanced back at Quatre. Brother? And then it all made sense. Quatre, as easy going as he was, ran the company with power and with an almost iron fist leaving no question as to who was in control, except when he dealt with Dorothy. In the short time I'd been at Branch 2 I'd seen Dorothy get away with enough things that Quatre should have fired her on the spot. But the fact that they were siblings suddenly brought all that together. Of course he let her get away with more; they were related and when two people were related they reacted and dealt with each other completely differently, no matter what the relationship.  
  
Quatre frowned at her but relaxed a bit. "I know how you fight, and it would be… unadvisable at the very least."  
  
Dorothy crossed her arms, looking even more amused. "Is that a compliment or an insult?" She asked with a chuckle.  
  
I turned to Quatre. "I still would like to fight her. She made a good point, and learning what I can and can't do would mean a lot more to me then that picture. The name Riku Shirou means nothing to me. It's just a name."  
  
The blond boy's frown faded a bit and he shook his head. "This goes against all my better judgement."  
  
"Which is exactly why you're the rational one," Dorothy said sweetly. "But in this case, trust me. Besides, I'd like to test a small theory."  
  
Quatre leaned against his desk, avoiding all of our eyes for a long moment then nodded his head, relenting to mine and Dorothy's request. He closed his laptop and pressed the button to turn it off. "You're not stopping me from coming down to watch and make sure you don't send him to another hospital though."  
  
"Oh yee of little faith," Dorothy chuckled. And then she led us out of the room.  
  
**  
  
The fencing room turned out to be on a lower floor, right above Mari's basement workshop. Padding covered the walls, making the room into a multipurpose training area that I had no doubt was used for many other forms of fighting aside from fencing and sword play.  
  
I changed into the padding and helmet easily enough, and took a little extra time to look over the various fencing blades in a rack against the wall. Various sizes and styles stood before me, and I found myself drawing a blank with anything related to swords, save for the fact that I'd caught one by the hilt in Quatre's office. So I simply chose one like the one Dorothy held, which had a curved piece of metal around the hilt to protect the hand. Lifting it lightly I tested my grip and finally decided it was probably the best I was going to get with my apparent lack of knowledge.  
  
Taking my helmet I crossed the room and stood facing Dorothy, copying her straight legged stance with sword at one side and helmet held at the other, facing her. The tall blond woman brought her sword up and made a slashing movement, that I could only guess was a kind of salute before a duel. I mimicked her movement and then we both slid on our helmets.  
  
My eyes focused completely on her and I mimicked her every move for the first moment, feeling awkward as we both dropped down a bit on bended knee, one hand behind our backs and the other holding the sword.  
  
"Old rules." She stated through her helmet. "Target area is everywhere below the neck. We move only in a straight line and you are allowed one step to the side. Three hits to win."  
  
I nodded, processing what she said in my mind. She took a quick step forward and I mimicked it, backing up in the same strange 'skipping' step motion. That seemed to be some kind of a visual key to her, because suddenly she was moving toward me, and brought the sword up. I moved back as fast as I could, but the thin silver blade was hard to see through the grating of my helmet and the next thing I knew there was a slight tap on my arm. I'd been hit that easily.  
  
Dorothy retreated back to her previous area and resumed her stance again and once again I copied her. But this time I was watching closely, my mind focusing completely on her. I now had an idea of how quick she could move and how easily I could move in the suit as well. Deciding that I had little to lose, I made the first move this time and dashed forward, bringing my own blade to strike at her chest. She backed up a step and brought her blade up to meet mine, deflecting it.  
  
"You're learning. But you're clumsy." She pushed me back and then jumped forward to strike. This time I managed to block her and didn't bother wasting time in a reply, it wasn't worth the breath.  
  
The two of us moved like that for what seemed like a long time to me, but what was probably only a few minutes. Both of us danced back and forth between the two lines on the floor, mostly blocking and occasionally landing hits. I stumbled more then enough times and the suit was constricting, the helmet limiting my vision past the point where I was comfortable. It wasn't long before Dorothy landed the last hit and won. I'd only managed to hit her once.  
  
She slid off her helmet and I did as well, both of us slicing our swords through the air in a salute. For a moment she stood there, regarding me with a curious expression. I simply shrugged and headed back to the rack.  
  
"Perhaps I was wrong," I heard her murmur lightly.   
  
I didn't bother to agree or disagree, but I knew my answer. Once again the hopes I'd allowed to grow in my head were crushed. I'd thought the fight would lead me to something, but the only thing it showed was that I was good at learning from mimicking other's movements, but that I was clumsy and uncoordinated enough to block most professional moves. Even more infuriating was the fact that after that first strike, I could tell that she'd been holding back, as if she were waiting for me show her something. Well, apparently we'd both been falsely waiting for nothing.  
  
Quatre and Mari waited near the door, not saying anything as I went to return my padding and items in the small storage closet. I put away the helmet then turned to place the sword back on the rack, but paused when I felt cold metal cross my neck.  
  
The reaction was instant in its movement and before I knew what I was doing I'd grabbed the blade in my hand and snapped it, breaking the flimsy tape covered tip away to create a razor edge. I turned a glare to Dorothy who seemed only mildly surprised by my action.  
  
She reacted as well and aimed the sword for my chest, tearing at the shirt I was wearing now that my padding was gone. I felt the sharp metal scrape against my skin along with a warm line of blood slip down my side. And that seemed to be the key.  
  
In a quick move I'd shoved her out of the way and rolled away to safety, still clutching my fencing blade in my hand. I snapped the tip off my own blade and sent it flying straight at her. A metallic thunk later and the sword had pinned Dorothy's shoulder to the closet door by the fabric. A small amount of blood began to soak the white fabric, even though I'd purposely avoided vitally injuring her.  
  
Once again all eyes were on me as I stood up and I could feel Quatre and Mari staring in mute surprise. Dorothy merely regarded me with a satisfied smirk. Letting her own sword fall to the ground she reached up and unpinned herself, dropping mine next to her own discarded blade.  
  
"You are clumsy and untrained, but you react faster than any I've ever seen. I've never seen instincts polished quite like yours."  
  
I frowned at her, ignoring the cut on my side that was slowly coloring my shirt. "So you decided to attack me."  
  
"You fought so clumsily on the floor over there that I could have knocked you over and won easily in a matter of seconds. But when placed in a situation where your very life is threatened, you react with deadly accuracy. I'm not sure how that all exactly fits together, but you've got an untapped talent hidden in you that's quite impressive. Whoever you were, your senses are honed to kick in automatically, no matter what the situation. But you don't remember the skills, so I suppose you can't use them unless it's a matter of instinct, or life and death."  
  
My frown and my glare didn't disappear as she stepped closer to me and her voice lowered so that only I could hear her.   
  
"I still don't trust you, but I do respect you for your skill. You're an intriguing person and I'll even admit that I'm curious to find out who you are. But there's now a price with knowing your skill. If Duo, or any others in this company get hurt because of you, I will hold you responsible. Make no mistake, that if anything happens to anyone, especially Duo, I will hold you responsible for it."  
  
I glared back at her and hissed my own response, low enough so only she could hear.  
  
"Be careful, Dorothy. The next time you threaten me, I won't miss."  
  
Then I turned away from her and left the practice room.  
  
end of part 8 


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
Author's note: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but you'll understand when you get to the end.  
  
We arrived back at Duo's apartment a couple hours later.   
  
After the duel with Dorothy and discovering my strange talents to be quite deadly when threatened, but nearly helpless when just practicing, I'd retreated to just sitting by myself in one of the small offices that was an offshoot of the main entrance way. I spent the remaining time there pondering my own thoughts and listening to Milliardo's actions at the front desk, until the door opened and Duo stood there with Mari.  
  
The trip back to the apartment was spent in relative silence as we all sat in the taxi. I was surprised Mari was coming back with us, but then I had a feeling I knew what was going to happen when we got back. So, wisely, I split off from them as soon as we entered the apartment and went to the couch that had become my bed. They weren't two seconds in the door when my suspicions were confirmed and Mari erupted.  
  
"Just what the hell were you thinking dad?!"  
  
I glanced over my shoulder and watched Duo's steps stumble and he caught the kitchen counter to steady himself and turn to face her. Mari stood there with her hands on her hips and the most disapproving expression in the world, enough to make Duo wince in spite of their age difference. He flashed her a nervous grin and rubbed the back of his braid in embarrassment.  
  
"I guess he told you about-"  
  
"The attack? Yes. And even if he hadn't I saw how pale you were before I left! Are you just plain stupid? What if he hadn't been here.. oh hell! What if he'd touched you during the attack!? Damnit dad, you're being stupid and careless and … and… and don't act like it didn't happen!"  
  
Her last words hung in the air between both of them as I quietly watched them from the couch. Mari finished yelling at him and just stood there, her expression turning sad. I watched her blink her eyes a few times and then small tears started rolling down her face as she began to tremble. Mari struck me as someone who didn't let herself cry often. But then she'd lost her parents to a murder, I could only imagine what it would be like to now have a father who ignored a part of himself which apparently could get him killed.  
  
Duo stood there for a moment, still seeming to be in shock over her outburst. Then he seemed to notice the tears and crumbled a bit. Closing the distance between them he pulled Mari into his arms and hugged her tightly, gently running his gloved hand through her short hair to try and help calm her down. Both of them had apparently forgotten I was in the room, and I was left alone to witness the silent apology Duo gave her. I could tell he was whispering softly to her, probably trying to comfort her, but I couldn't hear what was being said. And perhaps that was best, because I didn't want to intrude. I just sat there and watched discreetly as Mari finally wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back, speaking softly back to him, finally calming down.  
  
A few more moments passed by before Mari pulled away from him and wiped at her eyes. Without saying another word she just gave him a small nod and crossed the studio apartment, disappearing into her little cornered off section. I heard a few clicks and then a muffled noise that sounded like music on a set of headphones. I turned back to find Duo watching me quietly.  
  
We were both silent as our eyes met and held. He had a solemn look on his face, obviously regretting how he'd dealt with the situation around his attack, but that was all I could tell. I know my face didn't betray much, but really, what was there for my face to betray? I'd just witnessed a scene that wasn't any of my business. Part of me wondered, if Duo had not had a studio apartment where there were no separating walls, would I still have been drawn this deeply into his life?  
  
"I guess I screwed up," he commented softly. Breaking the eye contact between us, he stepped toward me and sat down in the chair next to the couch, reclining with a gloved hand covering his face.  
  
"Far be it for me to judge your parenting skills." I commented softly.  
  
"Yeah, not your area I guess. Not really mine either." He gave a soft sigh and I could see the hints of an ironic smile on his face. "I swear most of the time she's more of a parent to me then I am to her. We act more like siblings or something."  
  
I nodded, having noticed that as well.  
  
"Hey Trowa, were you still… interested in trying?"  
  
I blinked and looked back at him from where I was sitting. "Trying what?" The subject change had caught me off guard and I honestly wasn't sure what he was referring to. I could make a few guesses, but none that really held any ground. So I simply waited for him to answer my question.  
  
Duo didn't move for a moment, then sat up and started fidgeting with his gloves, pulling at them. It was like he was going to pull them off but honestly couldn't decide at the last moment. I started to get an idea of what he was thinking, and exactly how nervous he was about it, because I could honestly see his hands shaking a little.  
  
"When was the last time you used… it on another person?" I asked quietly.  
  
"Mari." He responded, not looking up at me. I watched him twist the worn fabric of the driving gloves, halfway pulling them off and flexing the already broken-in fabric. He concentrated on the gloves as if they were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen, or perhaps the best place to avoid looking up at me. After a few more moments passed he spoke again, still fidgeting nervously.  
  
"I was partners with Dorothy, and we were the ones sent to the murder scene. Quatre sent us there, and we met Chang there… they had already cleaned up most of the mess, so I didn't get to see the actual bodies. I did see some of the mess the killer left behind," he stopped and shuddered a bit at the memory. Something told me, that it wasn't the memory of the scene of the crime he was shuddering at. Duo didn't seem like the type to lose his stomach over a room splattered in blood.  
  
He continued. "Chang informed us that their daughter was missing, that her body hadn't been found in the house. So I went up to her room and just looked around for a bit. I noticed the closet door was locked, which was strange 'cause it locked from the inside. So we got that open, but couldn't find anyone…"  
  
I listened to him verbally walk back through the crime scene. His eyes seemed unfocused and he wasn't fidgeting anymore, and I had no doubt it was because he was in his memory. He didn't need to give me this much detail, but I wasn't about to jolt him out of it. For some reason, I found myself wanting to hear the whole story behind this. I wanted to know why Mari was so close with Duo and why the two of them fit so well together. It was almost like a perfect match because of the way they balanced each other out, that it caught me almost as being too perfect. And I didn't like where my thoughts headed when I considered that possibility. So, instead, I listened to his story. I suppose it was that 'being pulled into his life' thing that this apartment seemed so well set up for, acting up again.  
  
"There was an attic door in the closet, and a small window. But I knew she hadn't gone out the window because there was paint over the seal; it had never been opened." He frowned a bit more, resting his hands in his lap. "I found her in the back corner of the attic. I'd been walking around with my gloves off, and by touching things I knew she was somewhere in the attic. What I didn't expect was for her to jump forward and run into me scared from the corner. I… touched her… and saw it."  
  
He fell silent and I let the silence hang for a moment, wondering if he would continue. When he didn't offer any more explanation I pressed a bit. "What did you see?"  
  
"The murder. Her parents. I saw what she saw when she walked into their room. I saw hi- the one who killed them. I saw all of it, and I couldn't stop it, because I couldn't let go of her. The… images are more vivid with people. I see it like I was there, in flashes that hurt. It's like watching a bad animated film, where each image is burned into your mind before you see the next. I guess… I got some of her emotions at the time too, because by the end we were both crying and Chang and Dorothy had to pull us apart."  
  
I frowned over that a bit. "So… to touch another person affects you that much?"  
  
Duo gave a small nod. "Well, it did with her. I haven't done it since then, so I don't know if it changes from person to person. But it was a couple years ago." He ended with a shrug and glanced back at me, his eyes losing the glazed look. I watched him glance down and finally completely pull the gloves off his hands, setting them on the table. The seams of his driving gloves were impressed into his skin, in strange small lines, circling his fingers. He wrung his hands together a bit, then looked up at me, in expectation of an answer.  
  
"You're still willing to do this? Even when you have no idea what you'll see?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
I pondered for a moment, then stopped myself from thinking too much about this. I didn't want to talk myself out of it. I knew his power could help shed light on to everything, but if I thought about it long enough I'd talk myself out of making him go through that again. I didn't feel guilty at the moment, and I didn't want to feel guilty while he did it. So I nodded back, before I had a chance to second guess myself.  
  
"All right," he said softly, confirming both our agreements.  
  
**  
  
Duo sat next to me on the couch, both of us facing each other silently. He hadn't bothered to change out of his work clothes, or change anything, save for the fact that his gloves still remained on the coffee table beside us. I faced him in silence, simply watching his eyes and trying not to react to the look of fear that reflected back at me. I said nothing, allowing him whatever time he needed to gather his courage for this. I just simply sat there and watched as he looked back at me, and the fear in his eyes slowly slid away to reveal a look of determination.   
  
Then he reached his hand forward and I felt his fingers brush against my cheek.  
  
The first thing I noticed was that I felt a warmth flood over my body, from his fingers, and my eyes slid shut. Either that or the room faded out around me; I couldn't quite tell. But either way, my world faded into a warm darkness around me and I began to hear sounds.  
  
Muffled high pitched beeps filled my ears, deafening in their loudness. Each one reverberated through my body, like ripples in the water. Then visions of white flashed before my eyes. White, a bright white that was blinding. I found myself in a room, white in every aspect, with muted colors like I couldn't focus on anything. Shapes moved around me, flashing like a strobe light, moving one second and paused the next, but yet never seeming to stop at all. The beeps around me faded in and out in a Doppler effect, echoing the odd movements of those around me. And suddenly I noticed that nothing was really moving, but rather the same moment in time was being repeated, over and over in quick flashes of blinding sensory.  
  
Two shapes moved and yet didn't move around me. One leaning over the bed, that I was lying on, while the other jerked in the doorway, his face trained on me. I could see the entire room, but only after it flashed in front of me enough time to burn the image into my mind.   
  
White blindness.  
  
High-pitched, beeping deafness.  
  
Detergents and cleaning chemicals hit my nose in full force, nearly knocking me out with their potency in each flash. And my body seemed to scream back at me because it felt as if a load of concrete had been poured over me and movement seemed impossible.  
  
The longer Duo touched me and the longer the scene flashed before my eyes, the more it seemed real. I found the flashes lasting longer, my body growing stiff, and my mind started to panic. I couldn't move. I could barely see. My entire body felt warm, and those two people kept staring at me.   
  
I was becoming a part of the vision!  
  
I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. My body felt like lead and the scents started to over power my senses. Somewhere along the line I had found my own voice, and my mouth was hanging open in a silent scream, with no sound filling the room. My mind panicked and yet no life-saving techniques appeared to save me. All I could do was sit there and stare at the scene around me, my mind flying and falling deeper into paralyzing panic.   
  
I was trapped.  
  
I couldn't get out.  
  
I couldn't breathe.  
  
I couldn't move.  
  
I couldn't-  
  
And then it was gone.  
  
Suddenly the terrifying vision was gone, and I was back in Duo's apartment, back on the couch with the soft over head light illuminating the room around us. A thin layer of sweat covered my entire body and I was panting in what was probably the remnants of my fear and panic. My entire body trembled but that wasn't the thing that shocked me the most. Instead it was the fact that Duo was curled up in my lap, huddled against me like some lost and scared child. He was trembling more frantically, his hands clutching at my shirt so tightly I thought it would rip from the strain. I could see tears flowing down his face at a constant pace as he struggled to catch his breath.  
  
And still, over and over, I watched his mouth move, repeating the same words.  
  
"You're blank. You're blank. You're blank…"  
  
Over and over.  
  
I did the only thing I could possibly think of doing. And in reality, I know my arms were already moving before the thought crossed my mind.  
  
I wrapped my arms around him and cradled him close, both of us trembling together as he softly whispered his two word mantra. And yet, in spite of everything, it all felt right. It felt good, safe and just… just right. 


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
I awoke the next morning to someone standing over us and words that were just beyond the reach of my sleep dulled mind. Blinking my eyes I forced my body to wake up and find out what was going on around me, and found that I'd fallen asleep in a most peculiar fashion.   
  
For one thing, perhaps the main thing, Duo was still sitting in my lap, partially curled up against me and the arm of the couch. His head was resting on my shoulder and one of his hands still clutched at my shirt, as if afraid that I wouldn't be there in the morning holding him. He looked peaceful in his sleep and I wondered how much sleep he actually did get on that bed on the other side of the room. How comforting was it to sleep on a cold bed with sheets that had to be locked away every morning and a pattern he couldn't deviate away from without serious consequences.  
  
Somewhere in the back of my mind I acknowledged the fact that I'd slept comfortably through the whole night as well. How strange.  
  
A second later I noticed that Mari was standing in front of us and she had a large grin on her face with mischievous and wondering eyes. I blinked at her in question but didn't say anything. After all, what does one say when they are found with a girl's father, curled up on the couch? Half of me wondered what she was thinking at that moment. The other half just really didn't want to know.  
  
"Wake up, cutey pie!" She said cheerily as she poked Duo a few times. He stirred in my arms, curling a bit closer at first, then he stiffened, his eyes flying open. I watched his face turn red as he slowly realized where he was, then he ducked his head and stuttered out an answer.  
  
"Morning… Trowa… Mari."  
  
Marimeia responded with a laugh. "You two looked so cute together I almost didn't want to wake you. Have a nightmare dad?"  
  
Duo's head shot up and he stared at her. "What?! No that's not… I mean… we just…" He sputtered through a few more attempts at answering, then he just quickly stood up and grabbed a pillow from the couch to throw at her. As soon as his hand touched the pillow he faltered and stumbled back into my lap, dropping the pillow to the floor. His body trembled slightly as he shook off whatever had grabbed him at that moment.  
  
"Dad…" Mari watched him carefully, her cheerfulness gone for a look of worry.  
  
He'd touched the pillow and then stopped. I realized that the shock from an unexpected vision must have been the thing that made him fall back. He was so used to wearing his gloves and protecting himself that any time he accidentally touched something and got a vision it shocked him. But if that were the case how strong were his visions usually? I remembered how strong the one that I saw was, it had felt like it was going to make my head split in two. Was it that strong for him all the time? Or maybe even stronger? I suddenly found myself with the urge to hug him again, but this time I stopped myself.  
  
"Are you all right?" Mari asked in concern.  
  
Duo nodded, running a hand through his hair. "I'll be fine… just didn't realize I didn't have my gloves on." He reached forward and took the two driving gloves off the table, slipping them on to his hands. Then he reached down and grabbed the pillow, this time throwing it right at Mari and hitting her in the chest. "Now go to work, you lazy bum!" He said with his usual cheerful grin.  
  
Mari gave a small cry of surprise. "You should talk! You work too you know!"  
  
"I'm taking the day off." His grin widened as he spoke matter-of-factly. Standing up from his place on my lap he waltzed over to the kitchen like a ten-year-old who was amazingly proud of himself because he'd just won capture the flag. Mari laughed as he started to make breakfast, still looking overly proud and grinning like a mad man.  
  
"All right, fine. I'll stop by Quatre's office and tell him." A smirk crossed her face. "Just make sure you close and lock the door if you plan on doing anymore 'snuggling' on the couch. Wouldn't want someone to walk in on something."  
  
I felt my face turn warm in embarrassment at her words and heard Duo drop something in the kitchen. He didn't say anything in response, and neither did I… but then we didn't have too because Mari was too busy bolting for the door so she didn't have to feel our wrath. I stayed on the couch, willing the unwelcome blush on my cheeks away, while Duo just stood silently in the kitchen area.  
  
"You know… it wasn't meant like that… right Trowa?" He spoke softly after a moment.  
  
I nodded, then actually spoke, realizing he probably couldn't see me. "I know."  
  
"Still…" Duo walked around out of the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, facing me, but looking at the floor. "Thanks for spending the night with me. It was… well… to admit it was kind of nice waking up in someone's arms."  
  
"Yeah," I admitted softly, without even realizing what I was saying. But then, there was no point in lying really. Both of us appeared to have slept quite well that night, so what was wrong with admitting that? And the feeling of waking up with someone in my arms, knowing I'd protected them for the whole night, was very comforting indeed. I hadn't minded that the couch was hard or that we'd fallen asleep sitting up. It hasn't mattered. What had mattered was making Duo feel safe and I'd accomplished that. I'd woken up feeling almost proud of myself and something else.   
  
I knew I wouldn't mind falling asleep like that again.  
  
Another blush started to rise on my cheeks, but I quickly banished it away by looking up at him and speaking. "You said I was blank. But I wasn't, because I saw the image too."  
  
Duo frowned a little. "It's not that you were blank, it's just that's my name for it." He paused and walked over toward me, taking a seat on the large chair next to the couch. He propped his feet up on the coffee table. "See, when I touch things I see what they've seen. But there are certain things in my life that I've made 'blank' on purpose. Like my bed sheets, they're blank. That's why I put them in the chest all day long. So when I fall asleep wrapped in them and if I accidentally touch them, then the only thing I see all night long is images of me sleeping and the inside of that wooden chest. See?"  
  
I thought for a moment and then nodded as I voiced my thoughts. "So when you say blank, you mean that you only saw one or two things. But I shouldn't be blank."  
  
"No, you shouldn't." Duo dropped his feet and leaned forward, frowning a bit in thought as he rested his chin on his gloved hands. "But the fact is that you are. You said you saw something? Well, you saw the same image I did, that's also why I don't like touching people, because they see it too for that brief moment."  
  
"I saw a hospital room. I was lying in a bed and there were two people. One, I think was the doctor, was leaning over me. It looked like he was checking the monitoring machines. The other was standing in the doorway, just watching the room and the doctor."  
  
Duo frowned and nodded. "Yeah, I saw them." Then his face turned a bit embarrassed and he leaned back running a hand over his braid. "But I kinda didn't pay attention to the guy at the door. I was a bit too preoccupied with the fact that I'd actually found someone who's blank. I mean, not even Fei is blank…" He trailed off with a nervous laugh.  
  
"I don't like him." I said softly, not even realizing I was really speaking out loud.   
  
"Don't like… Fei?"  
  
I stopped. True, I wasn't exactly a 'big fan' of Officer Chang, but I knew that was simply based on some irrational annoyance that he and Duo had a relationship. While the statement applied to Officer Chang, it wasn't who I'd meant it for. So I decided to clarify. After all, my feelings of jealousy or annoyance weren't something I wanted to share. Because that would require me to admit other facts I wasn't willing to face yet.  
  
"No. The guy who was by the door. I don't like him."  
  
Duo leaned toward me again. "You remember him?"  
  
I shook my head. "Not a memory, exactly. It's more like a feeling. I know I don't like him. I know I don't trust him and… I felt threatened by him."  
  
"That doesn't sound like instinct to me. It sounds like you're starting to remember something you blocked out." He shrugged a bit. "Quatre's got an extensive file on people, with pictures, records and everything. Maybe if you described what he looked like… then we might be able to find him on that database."  
  
I nodded and leaned back against the couch closing my eyes. I remained silent for a while, just picturing that strange strobing vision in my head from the night before. Mentally I found his face in the vision and began to describe him.   
  
"He has red hair. But it's the shade that is more natural, more of a muted red-orange then red itself. I think blue eyes, and his face is angular, very cut and defined in its features. His hair has a slight curl and stops somewhere a bit above his neck line, that's hard to see. He's not wearing glasses and there's no distinguishing marks that I can see. He's not wearing anything strange either. Just a boring business suit and a white trench coat."  
  
I stopped at that, a sick feeling growing in my stomach. After describing what he looked like my stomach seemed to lurch forward. The mental image of the man in my head was replaced, with something much more sinister. It was the same face, but suddenly everything about it was darker and he had more of a sneer on his face, rather then a blank expression. And beside his face was his hand… holding a glowing and burning hot blade.  
  
My eyes shot open and I gripped the side of the couch, uttering a very soft cry. I took a deep breath to calm myself but refused to shut my eyes. I didn't want to see that image again.  
  
Beside me, Duo was completely silent. After I'd managed to calm myself down enough to not drop into a panic I glanced at him, only to find him sitting still, looking very pale. His face held a look of fear that was minimal, while his eyes held a completely different light. In his eyes I could see terror. Pure, painful and real terror that was the kind of look you saw in the eyes of a soon to be murder victim who can only stand in the dead ended alley, watching their soon to be killer stalking slowly toward them. I shuddered a bit at his look and immediately forgot my own strange reaction.  
  
"A white coat?" He asked softly. I could barely hear his shaking voice and had there been any other sound in the room save for the whirling of the fridge, I might have missed it.  
  
I nodded slowly.  
  
Duo stood up quickly from his chair and fumbled his way to the table which he used as his make-shift desk. I watched his legs wobble as he made his way over, worried that he would fall to the ground any second, yet I didn't get up to help him. I was in just as much shock as he was, simply from seeing that expression on his face and how my description had horrified him. He moved with the look of someone haunted, almost possessed by a memory that refused to go away. A memory which was so terrible that it threatened to rip him apart. I had to wonder if it was something he'd seen from touching me. But then, no, I would have seen it too… wouldn't I?  
  
"Was it this man?" He asked, his voice now turning cold.  
  
I stood up and crossed to the table, relieved to find that my legs supported me much better than his as he was still grasping onto the table for his life by one hand. I took the picture from him.  
  
Staring back at me, from what looked like a torn and copied piece of a professional family photo, was the same man. He had a friendly smile on his face and a general happy manner, which all struck me as completely fake. So fake, in fact, that it almost scared me to know that he was able to smile like that and make others believe his expression meant whatever he wanted it to.  
  
"Yes, that's him."  
  
Duo grasped the table tighter, closing his eyes and taking long breaths to steady himself. As he did this he spoke in a surprisingly stern and commanding voice.  
  
"I need to go to Branch 2, right now. I don't have time to call Mari to come back here and you can't come with. You need to stay in the apartment. Don't leave. Trust me on this. I will be back as soon as I can."  
  
I watched him quietly for a long moment and waited until he opened his eyes until I gave my answer. And even then I gauged my response by the almost pleading look in his eyes, the terror hidden just beneath.  
  
"I'll stay." I said quietly.  
  
Duo seemed satisfied with that and he quickly bolted toward the front door, stopping only for a second to grab his jacket from the rack. Then he was gone and the door shut quietly behind him.  
  
I remained at the table not sure what to do, and unfortunately with only more questions than answers. So I did the first thing I could think of. I turned the picture in my hand over and read the name.  
  
Treize Kushrenada.  
  
**  
  
I don't know how long I stood there and looked at the picture in my hand. But by the time I managed to glance away, the man's face was already burned into my mind. Of all the things in the world to strike me as familiar and be the clue to gaining back the memories that I had lost, why was it this man?  
  
Treize Kushrenada?   
  
I sat down at the table and looked through the files lying there. I pulled out the one Duo had retrieved the picture from but didn't manage to find much else. What little was in the folder consisted of his name, his last known whereabouts, and speculations on where he might be now. But considering that he hadn't been spotted by anyone for the last two years, I doubted the speculations held much water. Beyond that sheet of paper and the photo there was nothing.  
  
It wasn't like the real Trowa's folder, or Middi's. Their folders had had family records, work records, dossiers and daily habits and all sorts of information that would make any stalker proud to have. In contrast to those I didn't need to think too long to realize that Treize's folder was surprisingly empty, and there had to be a reason for it. Either it was all confidential information that even Duo wasn't trusted with… or Quatre knew that eventually I might see the folder and he still didn't know enough about me to let Duo bring such important information home.  
  
I slid the photo back into the folder and closed it, abandoning the table to return to the couch. Once there I flopped down and just lay on my stomach, burying my face against the pillow. It took a moment to gather up the courage, but then I recalled the vision in my mind and went through it again with painstaking detail.  
  
In the hospital room, there was nothing to use to figure out why Treize was there. He had no clues on himself to alert me of anything important. He wasn't wearing any scrubs, a lab-coat, or even a name tag, so I knew he wasn't staff. Everything about him was pristine and pressed, ironed to perfection with no wrinkles out of place. And yet, the white trench coat he wore seemed to stand out. Something about that didn't fit. Something about that didn't fit him.  
  
And it sounded familiar-  
  
I bolted up in the couch, wide eyed and staring at the wall. Hadn't Mari mentioned that? A white coat? The killer of her parents. He'd been wearing a white trench coat. And Treize had been wearing a white trench coat in the vision that I'd had because of Duo's strange power. That had to be more then a coincidence, especially considering the look of horror my describing him had caused on Duo's face.  
  
The second vision assaulted me again, and I wavered, dropping back against the couch holding my head. It was strong, and my entire body seemed to scream out in pain as I saw that same face above me, a glowing hot knife in his hand.  
  
I shuddered and shook off the image, heading toward the bathroom. Once there I splashed my face in freezing cold water, which seemed to be enough to shock that image out of my system. Though, I did notice, now that I was able to think clearer, that there was no white coat in that image. Even though I could only see his shoulders and head, and the knife, there was no white coat.  
  
Why wasn't he wearing it in that image? Was it significant?  
  
Out of everything I'd learned from Duo's power, nothing seemed helpful. My only clue was that something important had happened to me at the hospital. Important enough to make me only remember that one moment. And if this Treize Kushrenada was standing in the door at that very moment, then that had to mean he was important in some way.  
  
So the only thing for me to do was to go to the hospital.  
  
In spite of the fact that Duo had told me to stay.  
  
I frowned and considered that, but my mind was already made up. What good would it do for me to stay here in Duo's apartment when I had a lead? What happened if he came back and it was too late to investigate it? I couldn't take that chance. I refused to.  
  
So I took my own coat and headed for the hospital. 


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
The world was a haze of images. My mind was spinning and even though I could feel the hard surface under me that I was lying on, my body couldn't seem to decide if I was standing, laying or spinning in thin air. I felt sick and my stomach turned, and even though I hadn't eaten for hours it threatened to lose what little I might have had left. Everything around me was blurred from sounds to colors to smells. The only thing I knew for sure was that whatever I was lying on was cold…  
  
And I was tied down.  
  
My mind started to rise into a panic when I realized that and I couldn't stop myself from pulling at the bindings. Instinct and self-preservation kicked into gear and even though I was still working to make out my surroundings, I pulled at the restraints that held me down, trying to get free. It took a minute or two for me to realize it wasn't going to work.  
  
Taking a deep breath to relax myself and counter my panic I concentrated on trying to focus my eyes. Aside from the fact that I was tied down I knew nothing about the room I was in and there was nothing obviously threatening about the room itself. So before I sent myself into a panic, which never helped in such situations anyway, I had to find out where I was. Staying rational was the only way to get out of a situation fully intact.  
  
The room slowly started to un-blur around me, creating mostly defined shapes. I couldn't get rid of all the blurriness, nor the massive headache that was pounding my skull from the side, but I at least managed to see the room. And from what I could tell, it certainly wasn't a place I recognized, or a place I should have been.  
  
I was lying on what appeared to be a small cot type bed, raised quite high off the ground. Thick ropes were what tied down my wrists and ankles to the cot, making any movement burn and scrape my skin raw. The room around me wasn't well lit and it took quite a long time for me to make out a large cluster of computers on one end, while there were various other medical looking machines just behind me and almost out of my line of sight. Sinks lined the other wall, along with various wheeled tables that were no doubt covered with instruments. A cold chill shot down my spine, but not from the cold bed, and I started pulling at the restraints again, my mind nearly dropping back into a panic.  
  
I still couldn't think straight and something about this makeshift operating room seemed all wrong. It was dirtier then it should have been. A hospital would never have allowed concrete floors and splintered wood on the walls. Not to mention that the cot was all wrong. I felt sick with fear and sweat was already dampening my back and the ropes holding me down. I needed to get out of here… where ever here was.  
  
I couldn't remember much of anything. I remembered leaving Duo's apartment and heading for the hospital to ask more questions, but beyond that my mind didn't offer much. No… it did. I started to remember that I'd been walking down the street, quite hurriedly and someone had pulled me into an alley way, the same one the real Trowa's body had been found in. Then, before I could even react, I'd felt a force come down on the side of my head and my entire world had shattered into darkness.   
  
That was the same area of my skull that now pounded in pain. It didn't take a leap of logic for me to guess that I probably had a large black and blue spot growing there, especially if I was this hazy and there was no sign of anyone having administered any drugs.  
  
I didn't like the situation, for obvious reasons. But most importantly, at the moment, I didn't like being tied down. It left me feeling helpless and more vulnerable then I ever wanted to feel. So instead of focusing on making out more of the details about the room, I focused on getting out of it. My attention went to the ropes the bound me. They were the thick, rough kind that wasn't used for much of anything anymore because everything else used the metal coils instead for strength. Whoever had me tied up apparently didn't have any of the metal ropes on hand, which was quite a good thing for me. Focusing on one limb at a time, I began to deliberately move my wrist in circles, loosening the tie with as much patience as I could manage. Time dragged on until the knot was loose enough that I could slip my hand out. Then I turned and focused on the other, careful to leave my freed hand still in the ropes, just in case.  
  
That choice was nicely rewarded when the door to the dimly lit room opened and the lights blazed to life on the ceiling. For a moment I was blinded and I closed my eyes, the heat and brightness of the light making them sting and negating all the effort I'd already put into focusing them. My head pounded anew as I heard someone approach the cot.   
  
"You're a little late in reporting for duty. In fact, I'd say about a year or so."  
  
I winced and chanced opening my eyes. I'd turned my head away from the overhead light and was facing the voice now. So I opened my eyes to see who it was… and felt my body freeze to cold ice.  
  
Standing in front of me was the same man from the photo. He looked exactly the same, with his neatly trimmed haircut and angular face. Everything about him was perfect. But this time he didn't have the fake smile from the scrap of photo Duo had shown me. No, now he had a look of slight amusement on his face, masking a more sinister attitude that I could just barely see lurking beneath the surface. And once again I felt threatened, very, very threatened.  
  
Treize pulled up a chair to the bed and sat down on it. He crossed his legs and looked at me, his interlacing fingers resting in his lap, as he regarded me like some scientist looking at a new specimen. And I had to wonder how accurate that metaphor actually was.  
  
"You are awake now, yes? I apologize for the light, but the facilities don't allow me much room to maneuver. But then, you know this room, don't you?"  
  
I shook my head and winced as that brought more pain pounding through my skull. I immediately ceased the movement and waited for it to calm, then uttered a soft "no."  
  
He frowned and stroked his chin a bit. "Tell me, how much exactly do you remember? And please, disregard the light and the bindings, this is not an interrogation, they are merely safety measures. Think of this more as a friendly conversation, between you and your doctor."  
  
My doctor? "You're not a doctor."   
  
He chuckled softly. "True enough. But the question remains. How much do you remember? A name perhaps?"  
  
I frowned at him and began moving my wrist again, just slightly. Luckily the wrist I still needed to loosen was on the side opposite of him and therefore I could keep the movement up without him noticing as much as he would have, had it been right in front of him. The trick was to keep him occupied on me and keep him talking. Which meant I had to keep him asking questions, and I had to keep answering them.   
  
"No, nothing."  
  
He frowned a bit more, not seeming pleased with that answer. "Nothing at all?"  
  
"I remember stumbling out of the hospital a year or so ago. Nothing before that." I omitted the vision for obvious reasons. I was perfectly willing to keep answering his questions, but I had no intentions of bringing others into the equation unless there was no possible choice. I wasn't about to mention Duo or Mari or anyone else from Branch 2. This man could ask as much about my personal life as he wanted, but they weren't something I was willing to answer about.  
  
"Well, I suppose I expected this as one of the setbacks, but I must say I am still surprised. After all you certainly are the right person." He smirked at me now. "You can discontinue the farce. I know you've loosened the ropes around your hands. You may as well take them off and sit up. Unless you'd like to fool yourself into thinking I don't know. But then, seeing the TV screen would be easier if you sat up." And with those words he stood up and crossed the room to where the computers were.   
  
I frowned, not liking that I'd been discovered. Still, as he now knew that I'd managed to loosen my binds enough to escape, there was no point in staying tied down. True, he could be bluffing, but he didn't seem like the type to bluff on such a small point. All I knew was that he was quite confident to tie me down and not care if I'd gotten myself free. So I sat up, slowly, and quickly attended to untying my feet so I could turn and face the computer and television monitors which he was turning on. As I did I noticed he wasn't wearing the white coat I'd seen in the vision and that had scared Duo so much. No, he was just wearing a normal business suit. I wondered if that meant anything.  
  
"You wouldn't happen to be lying to me, would you? I sincerely need to know if you remember your own name."  
  
"I don't." I said back as I rubbed my wrists. They were quite scraped from undoing the ropes, but luckily there was no bleeding. My wrists stung, but that helped draw my attention away from the pounding ache in my head, which I was happy for.   
  
"Your name is Heero Yuy."  
  
I stopped rubbing my wrists and glanced up at him in question. That certainly wasn't the name Mari and I had found. In fact, there was quite a difference between the names Riku Shirou and Heero Yuy. The only similarity that struck me was the nationality. Both of the names were Japanese, which did fit what heritage I could discover about myself from just looking at my facial features. But it still didn't quite fit.  
  
"If that's my name, then why doesn't it show up in the records?"  
  
He turned back to me with yet another amused expression. I was beginning to become annoyed with him and his attitudes. He seemed to see all of this as some kind of sick game.  
  
"You don't believe me."  
  
"No." I said back. My voice was turning cold, showing exactly how annoyed I was with this man. Knocking me out, tying me to a bed and being generally annoying and acting like a smartass know-it-all were not ways to get on my good side. Assuming, of course, that I actually had one. Which, at the moment, I didn't.  
  
"Understandable. Perhaps this will help." He turned and flipped on the monitor and I found myself looking back at a face. It wasn't my own, not by a long shot, but it was still familiar in the slightest. The man on the screen before me had long brown hair, tied back in a thin pony tail in an attempt to keep it back out of his eyes and in some semblance of order. His eyes, which were tilted thanks to a more obvious Asian heritage, were ebony with a tint of brown, making his eyes look blank and almost inhuman. They were the type of eyes you saw on a movie screen belonging to the actor who portrayed a killer. They just weren't eyes you expected to see on a normal human being. I spotted a few wrinkles but not that many. The man staring back at me was nearly twice my own guessed age. And yet he looked familiar.  
  
I couldn't keep the look of shock from my face as I looked over his picture again. And for the first time, I felt like I was looking in a mirror. This man's face was familiar and the image of his face even felt right. In spite of the fact that I was looking at a monitor screen and not in the mirror, I felt like it was a mirror. Everything about that image felt right. I knew for a fact that my body wasn't that old and didn't look like that, and yet it still felt right. His eyes struck me as familiar and I realized that they echoed my own as did the apparently disheveled look of the hair.  
  
It was impossible. But this man looked related to me in some fashion. He wasn't me, and yet I felt he was… and my thoughts didn't make sense anymore. Nothing seemed to fit. How could he be me? I didn't look like that at all. But yet, I felt that he was me. All of a sudden my head started hurting again, but this time I knew it was from the confusion, not the bruise.  
  
"Quite interesting. I hadn't expected it to work, not at all. But you've proven that my efforts worked out quite well. Quite well except for the memory loss. I hadn't anticipated that. Tell me, do you remember this?"  
  
I glanced at him and found him standing there, holding a worn metal dagger in his hand as if it were a simple piece of decoration. He wasn't holding the object in any threatening way, but my body reacted violently to it as every part of me seemed to scream.  
  
All at once I found myself down on the floor, holding my head and panting in a vain attempt to catch my breath. A burning and painful image singed itself in my mind. It was the same image of Treize leaning over me with that exact same blade. But in his hand, in the image, the blade was burning hot. The stench of charred flesh assaulted my nose and the bright light above me burned my eyes. My entire body screamed in pain and I found myself screaming with it. The flashback was violent in its intensity, causing me to curl up as my body shook and spasmed. I could barely breathe as I felt that blade touch my skin, burning it away piece by piece until all I could think of was the pain. The pain became my entire world. Just the pain and the wish for it to stop.  
  
"Stop." I whispered hoarsely, managing to stop my own cries of pain. My soft voice rasped through the room and that seemed to provide a root for my sanity and calmness. I forced myself to concentrate on that and the cold concrete floor I could feel beneath me, and slowly I pushed away the flashback. My body began to relax and I opened my eyes.  
  
I found myself lying on the floor, curled up tightly and hugging myself like some scared child. My body was drenched in sweat from the reality and strength of the image and I still trembled from the echoes of emotion. Slowly, and carefully, I managed to sit up and open my eyes. I found Treize kneeling in front of me, but thankfully he didn't have the dagger in view.  
  
"How interesting."  
  
I glared at him. My pain and fear from the flashback were immediately replaced with pure and utter hatred. I didn't care who he was. All I knew, and all that mattered, was that he was responsible for that pain I'd just felt. And it wasn't much of a leap to know he was responsible for my memory loss. I glared at him, and struck out, shoving him back away from me into the chair, knocking it noisily away. Following through with the movement I slammed him into the floor and pinned him there by the neck. I saw him bring out the dagger in an attempt to defend himself, but I wasn't about to let the flashback disable me like that twice and I simply kicked it away, sending it skidding across the floor and into a shadow, out of sight.  
  
"Who are you!?" I growled at him, making it very clear that I would snap his neck if he didn't answer me.  
  
He just looked back at me, as if he'd completely expected such a reaction. I almost snapped his neck right then and there because of the look on his face. But I wanted answers, and I wanted them badly enough to let him live.  
  
"That isn't your body," he said through my grip, as if that explained everything. I frowned and loosened my grip enough for him to talk, but gave him no other leeway.  
  
"Explain." I spat out.  
  
His own eyes narrowed at me, showing a very serious and cold expression that seemed utterly at home on his perfectly groomed face. Perhaps it would have scared me before to see such a change, but right now I was running on adrenaline and it had no effect.  
  
"Simple. You are not in your body. I must admit I didn't know if it would work, but I'm so glad you helped me discover it. Your flashback, all that pain, I did that." His expression turned even colder as he spoke in a low and threatening voice. "As punishment for disobeying me, I scarred you. I tore your body apart, piece by piece, as I heard you scream. I caused you so much pain that even your soul couldn't take it and death was no where in sight. You escaped. Into your own son."  
  
My eyes widened and I stumbled back away from him, landing on the floor. My limbs trembled from that revelation and I knew I couldn't keep the horror out of my expression. He couldn't be telling the truth. That wasn't possible-  
  
"Oh Heero, you surprise me. The coldest killer alive and yet you can't even deal with this reality can you? You never were good at dealing with reality. Just like dealing with that young boy who discovered what you were." He stood up and brushed himself off. "And yet you found your way back here. After a year, you came back to me. Too bad I no longer have any need for your employment and you no longer serve a use for me."   
  
A click and a flash and suddenly he was holding a gun, training it right at my forehead. I froze and stared up his arm, watching his expression and not the gun, which rested against my head. I couldn't move that fast, I couldn't get away from point blank range. No one could move that fast.  
  
But I refused to die.  
  
I glared at him and kicked my legs out, right at him. In one movement I kicked him back and used the same momentum from that to throw myself back against the floor. He fired a mere split second later and I heard the deafening sound echo through my head painfully. The next second my head hit the concrete floor, splattering my vision with black dots and nearly causing me to black out. I grabbed onto consciousness and held onto it for my dear life, jumping to my feet. I couldn't afford to black out now, I couldn't.  
  
Bolting to my feet and not even looking back at him, I sprinted for the door. My body worked on auto-pilot, complying completely to my instinctive and animalistic need to survive. I felt my feet hitting the concrete and barely saw the door in front of me. I raced right into it, throwing it open as I heard another gunshot and a bullet ripped through my arm. I bit my tongue to keep from crying out as I stumbled forward and just barely managed to catch myself against the wall, and then I was running again. Running for all I was worth.  
  
**  
  
I don't know how long I ran from him, or perhaps stumbled was the correct word. But either way I managed to somehow make my way through the old wreck of a building without being shot again, and I apparently moved fast enough to keep him off my tail and eventually lose him. Not hearing anything behind me for a long time, I ducked into a room and collapsed onto the floor, just grasping the concrete and savoring its cold feel against my skin.  
  
It was comforting in its coldness, soothing. I could almost just lay there with my eyes closed forever. But I immediately stopped that train of thought and forced myself up, wobbling, back to my feet. I'd had my head smacked hard at least twice, the last thing I should do was let myself fall asleep. Not only would it mean I'd be caught, but I had a possible concussion and that meant that falling asleep now could be deadly.  
  
Stumbling through the room, my head pounding madly, I found myself in an office of sorts. I made my way to the desk and dropped down behind it, relieved to find that it provided complete coverage from the door and prevented anyone from seeing me until they were nearly halfway into the room, and in perfect range… if I'd had a gun. I rested against the side of the desk, careful not to let my eyes slide shut, for a good long time. Eventually the pounding started to fade down to a dull constant pain and I was able to move again without feeling like I was going to smash myself into the floor again for lack of balance.  
  
The first thing I did was tear off part of my pant leg, with the help of a letter opener, and slice it into strips. Then I managed to tie a few of those securely around my arm and the bullet wound. It hurt unbelievably, but I used the pain as an anchor for my sanity and consciousness and in the end it helped me think straighter. I slid the letter opener into the watch strap on my wrist for easy access and quick draw, before turning and looking through the desk for other possibly useful items.  
  
Wonder of all wonders, I discovered a cell phone tucked away in one of the top drawers. The design was fairly new and a silverish, the kind you would see higher-up business men carry. I quickly flipped it open and was even more surprised to see that it wasn't password protected or locked. Closing it again and turning off the ringer, I tucked it in my other pocket and went back to looking through the desk. A cell phone might help me, but at the moment I had no idea where I was, and there weren't any windows in the room that had cover near them, so I wasn't willing just yet to check. At the moment I was safe and able to move. It probably wasn't the best choice, but a phone call for help could wait until I was in more danger. And I knew there were worst things than being shot at.  
  
I dug through the desk a bit more, but managed to find nothing else of real interest. I rested by the desk a while longer, making sure I'd fully regained my center of balance, then I chanced moving across the room. While it was in plain sight of the door, the file cabinet caught my eye. It was one of those large metal ones, the kind that had locks at the top of each drawer because they were expected to hold documents of a secure nature. It was the kind of file cabinet that held important information, and assuming I was in Treize's office, I couldn't pass up a chance to look through it.  
  
Crossing the room as silently as possible and keeping an eye on the door, I stood up and tried the top file drawer. Not surprisingly it was locked and made the softest click when I tried it. All the other drawers also acted the same, showing that whatever was inside actually was important enough to be locked up, because Treize didn't seem like one of those people to methodically lock things or the office door would have been locked and I wouldn't have gotten into the room.  
  
Pulling out the letter opener I jammed it into the top lock and twisted it a bit, working the lock until I heard a click inside. I tested the door again and was quite impressed to find it opened now. I wasn't aware I could pick locks…  
  
The drawer slid out to reveal various file folders, all containing subject titles of whatever was inside the folder. I scanned the names of the folders but found nothing of interest. A second glance and then I decided to keep looking. I set down the letter opener and slid the drawer out completely, setting it as silently as I could on the floor, then glanced down at the lock below. Using the same letter opener I snapped the lock open from the inside, managing to reach it with only a minor cut to my hand. I slid the drawer open and looked over the folders. Once again there seemed to be nothing of interest, but I did notice a folder toward the back, labeled 'Media'. I frowned and pulled it out, flipping through the contents.  
  
The folder held various newspaper clippings and photos from magazines and journals which seemed to concentrate on criminal activity and analyzing crimes. CDs and disk were tucked in the back pocket, no doubt holding the same or more information in computer format. All of the articles seemed to focus around one particular killer and all repeated the same name.  
  
Heero Yuy.  
  
I swallowed and began to skim over the articles, unable to resist the urge. Treize had said it was my name, and he'd called me the most efficient killer… I couldn't hide my curiosity and I had no intention of denying it. One by one I skimmed through the articles, surreally reading about my supposed self through the eyes of scientists, police and reporters. Facts varied and I quickly got the impression that they really knew nothing about Heero Yuy, save for what they could discover from his victims.  
  
Victim after victim…  
  
I knew my eyes were wide in surprise as I read over the photocopied police and coroners reports. How many people… So many that I didn't want to count. And still my mind seemed to whisper to me that it was many more. That a file drawer twice this size couldn't hold all the names and details on how they'd died. Hospital workers. College students. Married couples. Tourists. A boy in a mental hospital. Prostitutes. Old ladies. Full families right in their own homes-  
  
I stopped and nearly dropped the folder in front of me, my hand frozen on one particular police report. Staring up at me were the victims names, in a black ink that glinted in the dim light as red, as if it were taunting me in some sick and morbid way.   
  
Victims:   
  
Anastasia Une  
  
Hector Une  
  
Survivors:  
  
Marimeia Une   
  
"Mari…" The word slipped out, my voice hoarse and shaking, much like my hands which now trembled, just barely able to hold onto the folder without it spilling noisily all over the floor. This Heero Yuy… he was the one who had killed Mari's family. Which meant that…  
  
I scanned down farther, to the area which described the witnesses report of the killer. And to my horror I found the description perfectly matched the picture Treize had shown me on the video screen. And the killer had worn a white trench coat. The report was signed by Office Chang.  
  
I closed the folder and leaned back against the wall behind the file cabinet to try and catch my breath. I suddenly couldn't breathe and I knew I had to calm down. My body threatened to rise into a panic all over again and I didn't want that to happen. I couldn't let it happen. So I stood there, clutching the damning folder to my chest as I closed my eyes and tried to regulate my breathing.   
  
The very possibility was staggering. Treize had said that my name was Heero Yuy, but I had no reason to trust him. Still, I couldn't deny my gut feeling when he'd shown me the picture and I'd felt as if I were looking into a mirror. As impossible as his claim was, it almost made sense. He'd killed me, painfully, which explained the searing vision and the reaction to the dagger he'd showed me. Things like that couldn't be faked. But the claim about my soul fleeing my body into the body of my son… that almost seemed too fantastical to be believed. Still, I couldn't deny that when I compared what I looked like now to the man on the screen we did bear a familial resemblance. Still those whole possibility of it all was mind blowing and I just couldn't' believe it. I couldn't.  
  
And to accept, on top of all of that, everything this Heero Yuy had done, was another matter entirely. I knew the folder wasn't a plant; it couldn't have been. Even if Treize knew I would make it to this room and read through his folders, the 'Media' folder was no different from any of the others. No separate color had been used to make me subconsciously notice it over the others. The title of the folder was even typed exactly as all the others and no pieces of paper had been sticking out to catch my attention. The folder wasn't a plant, so it was most likely real. Which meant that Heero Yuy had done all these things. And if I was Heero Yuy, then that meant I'd killed Mari's parents. All of that was just too much to take in.  
  
Luckily I didn't have to think about it long. Footsteps fell outside the room and I immediately went silent, freezing and holding my breath. There wasn't enough time to put the drawers back without making a sound and there was only one exit from the room, which was the door. But there was a window behind me, partially boarded up. I debated for a second, then dropped the folder and raced to the window, prying off the boards as quickly as I could without a care for the sound.   
  
I heard the door open behind me, but I didn't care. I didn't even look back, time was too precious. A bullet whined past my ear and splintered the wood in front of me, making my heart rate increase anymore. But I didn't give him time for a second shot, because I was already out the small opening I'd managed to make and dropping to the ground below.  
  
Luckily after I jumped out the window, it turned out to be the second floor. My feet hit the ground and I caught myself enough to keep steady and not fall forward, then bolted away from the building, not really caring which direction I was heading in, just running as fast as I could.   
  
Getting away was first priority. Dealing with this new information would happen when and if I survived.  
  
Chapter 12 


End file.
